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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26903842">Don't Treat My Love Like a Habit</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/youvebeenlivingfictional/pseuds/youvebeenlivingfictional'>youvebeenlivingfictional</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Triple Frontier (2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Possibly Slowburn, Set before the Movie, cursing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:22:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>26,806</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26903842</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/youvebeenlivingfictional/pseuds/youvebeenlivingfictional</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You’d been working with Santiago in Colombia for nearly two years. You’d worked in intelligence while Pope was both in Delta Force; you’d crossed paths more than once, as you’d usually worked on the briefings that the team received.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Santiago "Pope" Garcia/Reader, Santiago "Pope" Garcia/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>74</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>85</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Not beta-read</p><p>*Reina is Spanish for Queen</p><p>Song title from The One That You Love by LP</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"What the hell are you doing here?”</p><p>You didn't turn away from the your computer.</p><p>"My job," You answered.</p><p>"Didn't I send you home, like, four hours ago?" Santiago added.</p><p>"I don't know, Pope, I don't really listen when you talk," You excused. You heard him snort a laugh before you saw him set a coffee cup down beside your hand in your periphery. You raised a brow, glancing over at him to see another cup of coffee in his hands still.<br/>
<br/>
“Real curious that you didn’t think I’d be here but you bought me a cup of coffee anyway.”<br/>
<br/>
“If you’re gonna be a smartass, I’m taking the coffee back,” He warned as he sat down at the desk across from yours. You rolled your eyes a little bit, a smile growing on your lips as you reached for your coffee.<br/>
<br/>
Pope had, in fact, told you to go home four hours ago when you’d called to update him on your progress. And you’d done as he’d said, gotten a shower, and two hours of sleep before coming back in. It probably shouldn’t have been a shock to either of you that you were both there at the crack of dawn.</p><p>You’d been working with Santiago in Colombia for nearly two years. You’d worked in intelligence while Pope was in Delta Force; you’d crossed paths more than once, as you’d usually worked on the briefings that the team received. Ben Miller had jokingly called you the Intelligence Queen, which had gotten shortened to ‘Queenie’ the longer you’d worked with them; Pope had always called you <em>Reina</em>. He’d recruited you when you’d left the service.<br/>
<br/>
His proposal had been straightforward: “You’d technically be working for me, but I know I can only boss you around so much. I know how dangerous you can be, I want you on my side— And if you really wanna just kick back stateside, I’ll just ask you to recommend someone…I’m not gonna say I can’t do this without you, <em>Reina,</em> but I’m saying that I don’t want to.”<br/>
<br/>
And you really had considered going home, maybe working in cybersecurity, living a quieter life. But you knew you’d be bored. In all your time in Colombia, you’d never regretted your decision for a single second; there was never a dull moment with Pope, and you’d seen your fair share of action while you’d been there. Pope preferred you at your desk, where he knew you’d be in one piece (“You’ve got shit aim, <em>Reina</em>.” “Yeah, and you’ve got shit knees, Santi, so shut up.”)<br/>
<br/>
Your office space was small, only had a few desks and a couple of file cabinets in it, but you were the only two regular inhabitants.<br/>
<br/>
“You hear anything from Isabella in the last couple of days?” You asked. She was Santiago’s latest informant. You kept your eyes on the screen as you felt Santiago’s eyes dart to you before he shook his head a little bit.<br/>
<br/>
“She’s in the wind,” He muttered. He also reached up, adjusting the collar of his t-shirt. You arched a brow.<br/>
<br/>
“Shame,” You said. You hesitated before you got up from your desk and grabbed a few discarded post-it notes and gum wrappers. You took your time, rounding the desk and crossing the office to throw them out. You walked back slowly, purposely softening your steps. When you reached Pope’s side, you reached out quickly, yanking his collar down to reveal a bright red love bite on his collarbone. He twisted, bringing a hand up to stop you, but freezing when he realized it was too late. He glanced down at the mark before turning guilty eyes up at you.<br/>
<br/>
“In the wind?” You repeated, unimpressed.<br/>
<br/>
“…Recently in the wind.”<br/>
<br/>
You scoffed, letting go of his shirt and reaching down and pushing his head to the side, muttering, “<em>Shithead.”</em><br/>
<br/>
Santiago reached up to catch your hand as you stepped away from the desk, but you shook him off, sitting back down at your desk. You could feel your ears going red with irritation as you refocused on your work. Neither of you spoke. The stony silence persisted for a while. You weren’t mad at Pope for sleeping with someone - if you got mad at that, you’d constantly be upset. You were mad because he’d just let your closest lead to Camilo Hernandez, one of Lorea’s most trusted lieutenants, get away.<br/>
<br/>
“We’ll figure something out,” Santiago said quietly, “We always do.”<br/>
<br/>
“Whatever, Garcia,” You gritted out. You heard him sigh before you saw him reach out, taking hold of your cup. You glanced down before you did a double-take.<br/>
<br/>
“What are you doing?” You asked.<br/>
<br/>
“Taking back your coffee,” he said simply, “I only get coffee for people that like me.”<br/>
<br/>
“You think taking my caffeine away is going to get you back in my good graces?” You asked flatly. Santiago considered this before setting the coffee down.<br/>
<br/>
“<em>Mi Reina</em> makes an excellent point,” He said, setting the coffee back down. You rolled your eyes, turning back to the read-out you’d been scanning. You vaguely registered Santiago getting out of his seat.<br/>
<br/>
And then his hand was in your field of vision. You glanced at it disinterestedly before you turned your eyes back to your work.<br/>
<br/>
“What do you expect me to do with that?” You asked.<br/>
<br/>
“I expect you to take it.” <br/>
<br/>
“And then what?”<br/>
<br/>
“I think taking a little spin will lighten your mood.”<br/>
<br/>
“That is not going to help anything.”<br/>
<br/>
“How do you know unless you try?”<br/>
<br/>
“I don’t dance, Pope.”<br/>
<br/>
“First time for everything, <em>Reina.”<br/>
<br/>
“</em>Santiago, I swear to god—“<br/>
<br/>
“Fine, then I’ll just dance <em>for</em> you,” Santiago shrugged, pulling his phone out. You frowned up at him.<br/>
<br/>
“What are you doing?”<br/>
<br/>
“Looking for some music. Are you in a fast or slow mood?”<br/>
<br/>
You groaned.<br/>
<br/>
“I forgive you, just sit down, Jesus,” You groaned, swatting at his hip.<br/>
<br/>
Pope grinned down at you.<br/>
<br/>
“Promise?” He asked.<br/>
<br/>
“Pinky swear, just let me work in peace.”</p><p> </p><p>Pope leaned down, dropping a kiss to your head.<br/>
<br/>
“I don’t deserve your mercy,” He teased, “What would I do without you?”<br/>
<br/>
“Fuck all of our leads— Oh… Oh, hang on, you already do that, don’t you,” You said scathingly, looking up at him. His expression soured a little, but he nodded.<br/>
<br/>
“I deserve that,” he muttered, heading back to his desk.<br/>
<br/>
“Yes you do,” You retorted.<br/>
<br/>
“That’s why I love you, you know? You don’t let me get away with shit.”<br/>
<br/>
“Maybe you should be more like me,” You said, “Then Isabella wouldn’t have gotten away with our lead.”<br/>
<br/>
“Okay.”<br/>
<br/>
“I’m just saying.”<br/>
<br/>
“I get it.”<br/>
<br/>
“There are plenty of other people in this country that would suck on your neck if you asked real nice that <em>aren’t</em> connected to our work.”<br/>
<br/>
“If you could curate a list I’d appreciate it.”<br/>
<br/>
You took in a deep breath, glancing at where Santiago was smiling at you across your desks. You picked up your coffee, looking the cup over.<br/>
<br/>
“…I would throw this coffee at you if I didn’t love coffee so much.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Pope needed this. You could see it on his face.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Set before the movie. Not beta-read. Reina is Spanish for Queen.</p><p>Also I am not a native Spanish speaker, so I am sorry for any mistakes!</p><p>*We’ll let you know what we think as soon as we can.</p><p>**Make it quick, Garcia, we need to move on this.-- Don't let her sway you too hard, huh?</p><p>***Sweet dreams </p><p>Chapter warnings: cursing</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Youalive?” Pope’s voice crackled over your phone. You grunted in return, and he laughed, knowing it was as close as he was getting to a yes. <br/><br/>“We got a call from Diego, he wants us to look over plans for a bust. Hernandez has been spotted.” <br/><br/>Well that sure as fuck woke you up. You sat up in bed, scrubbing at your eyes. <br/><br/>“Wha’ time is it?” You mumbled. <br/><br/>“Almost noon. Meet me at the office in an hour. Diego’s gonna come by, give us the run-down.” <br/><br/>You nodded. <br/><br/>“Okay. Okay, an hour,” You agreed. <br/><br/>“I’ll bring coffee,” Pope added. <br/><br/>“You fucking better,” You said before hanging up. <br/><br/>-- <br/><br/>Pope needed this. You could see it on his face. After Isabella had disappeared, he’d been kicking himself. You’d eased up on berating him, even if you would still find yourself seething about it from time to time. The last month had been spent digging into leads that you knew would take you nowhere.<br/><br/>But this bust that Diego was laying out... You were trying not to interject, keeping your face carefully schooled into a neutral set as he laid it out for the two of you. He’d sent you files, layouts, pictures of Hernandez that seemed <em>off</em> -- too perfect, almost. You were trying to keep an open mind, but you smelled a rat. </p><p>“*<em>Le haremos saber lo que pensamos tan pronto como podamos,” </em>You heard Pope promising Diego to let him know what you thought as he led the man out. <br/><br/>“**<em>Hazlo rápido, García, tenemos que seguir adelante con esto. No dejes que ella te influya demasiado, ¿eh?</em>” <br/><br/>You watched Diego’s back, eyes narrowing as he told Pope not let you ‘sway him <em>too hard’</em>. You saw Pope’s head turn back toward you a bit. He knew that you spoke and understood more Spanish than you’d let on to the team that he worked with frequently. Had they already talked this out without you? Had Pope already made some kind of commitment to the plan? You sure as hell hoped not. <br/><br/>You pulled up the most recent picture of Hernandez that Diego’s team had gotten, scrutinizing it. There was something wrong about it; you could feel it in the pit of your stomach. You reached out, pulling the printed layout of Hernandez’ last known location, and the proposed sight for the bust toward you for another look. <br/><br/>The last bit of information that Isabella had given Pope was that Hernandez had an operation that he was trying to set up in Mocoa, in the Putumayo region near the mouth of the Amazon. What the hell would bring him to Suseca? The town was a little over an hour from Bogota-- that was an <em>eleven hour drive</em> from Mocoa--<br/><br/>"So? What do you think?” <br/><br/>You looked up to see Pope standing in front of you. He was trying not look too eager, and you felt your stomach drop. <br/><br/>Pope needed this. <br/><br/>You couldn’t give it to him. <br/><br/>--<br/><br/>”You’re killing me here, <em>Reina</em>.” <br/><br/>The words were muffled. You glanced over at Pope to find his head in his hands. He took a deep breath before he lifted his head. <br/><br/>“Just...Tell my <em>why</em> it’s such a bad idea,” He requested. <br/><br/>“C’mere,” You said, waving him around to your desk. He pushed himself out of his seat, rounding to your desk. He frowned at the negative, pixelated image he was faced with on your computer. <br/><br/>“What am I looking at?” He asked, eyes sweeping the screen. <br/><br/>“I put the image of Hernandez through forensic photo software. Think of a jpeg as ... the erosion of a shoreline. Every time a wave washes up on a beach, it removes some sand, it’s a loss. In that same way, every time you save a jpeg file, it loses data and quality from the original image. The more you save an image--” You waved toward Pope.<br/><br/>“The less quality there’ll be,” Pope finished nodding, “So?” <br/><br/>“So,” You turned back to the screen, “this software identifies any modified areas on an image. You have to think of each pixel on a jpeg as a single grain of sand-- each pixel is independently compressed, okay? So if a picture hasn’t been touched up or changed <em>at all</em>, every single one of these pixels should have the same error potential. Do you see,” You raised a pen, pointing to the chunked fragments of pixelation around Hernandez’s frame, “All of this? And look--” <br/><br/>You pulled up another screen to tourist site for Suseca, showing the background. <br/><br/> “I don’t think this is authentic.” <br/><br/>“Or maybe he’s just in the same place, that doesn’t mean--” Pope started, and you turned on him, disbelieving. <br/><br/>“I don’t know if you’re not reading me or if you’re choosing not to, but there is something wrong with this. And it’s not just the photograph, alright, it’s the whole fucking thing! Diego’s plan is way too loose,” You turned back to the print-out for emphasis and Santiago stepped away from your desk, “It makes no sense that Hernandez would just surface this far north-- After three months of radio silence? It makes no sense.” <br/><br/>“People slip up--” Pope began to rationalize. <br/><br/>“He doesn’t. If he did, he wouldn’t be so close to Lorea.” <br/><br/>You leaned back in your seat, watching as Santiago paced back and forth in front of your desks. You weighed your words carefully for a moment before you said, <br/><br/>“Santi... I know you wanna get this guy. I wanna get him, too. But not like this. Something is wrong here.” <br/><br/>Santiago turned to look at you, conflict twisting his features. For a split-second, panic surged through you - you were sure Santiago was going to tell you that you were off-base, that this bust was going down with him anyway. He took a deep breath, fist clenching as he muttered, “<em>Fuck</em>.” <br/><br/>He grabbed his phone off of the desk and turned away, heading for the door. <br/><br/>“Where are you going?” You asked, half-rising out of your chair. <br/><br/>“To tell Diego that I’m not in and that his intel sucks,” Pope snapped before slamming the door behind himself. You lowered yourself back into your seat, raking a hand through your hair. You glanced back at the photo of Hernandez, frowning.  <br/><br/>--<br/><br/>”You still in the office?” Was Pope’s way of greeting you this time. <br/><br/>“Uh-huh,” You confirmed, tacking on, “What’s up?” <br/><br/>“Diego circled back with me. The bust went down-- It was a set-up,” Pope relayed, “He’s fine, but two of his guys are hurt pretty bad.” <br/><br/>“Shit,” You hissed quietly, resting your head on your hand. You’d been hoping that what Pope had imparted to Diego would’ve been enough to stop him from going through with the bust, but you’d been wrong.<br/><br/>“...Where do we go from here?” You asked. <br/><br/>“Well, you go home,” Pope said, “And we go back to figuring it out tomorrow.” You rolled your eyes a little bit. <br/><br/>“I’m almost done,” You grumbled defensively. Pope chuckled. <br/><br/>“You’re never ‘almost done’,” He teased. He paused. <br/><br/>“Thank you,” he added quietly. You smiled. <br/><br/>“I should be thanking you for trusting me,” You argued. <br/><br/>“Hey, you know your shit. That’s why I hired you,” Pope retorted. You chuckled. <br/><br/>“Alright, lemme finish up here and I’ll... Eventually make it home.” <br/><br/>“Yeesh,” Pope mumbled. You could practically hear him rolling his eyes. <br/><br/>“Night, Santi,” You murmured. <br/><br/>“***<em>Dulces sueños, Reina</em>.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It was hardly the first time Frankie had hinted at the possibility of something between yourself and Pope.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*Cutie</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p><br/><br/>“I get that he’s frustrated, I mean, fuck, I am, too, but we can’t just jump on every single bust Diego throws our way,” You said into the phone.<br/><br/>“Well he didn’t hop on this one,” Frankie pointed out from the other end. <br/><br/>“Right, because I was able to talk him down. If he hadn’t listened to me, who knows what the hell might’ve happened?” <br/><br/>“There’s no need to worry about the what-ifs, Q. C’mon, you’re both in one piece.” <br/><br/>You sighed, shifting the phone from one ear to the other. You’d kept in contact with the team when they’d returned home, and you’d grown closer to Frankie since you’d started working with Pope. He and Pope had been the close to one another, so Frankie understood acutely what you went through with him day-in and day-out. <br/><br/>“Look, Pope’s got his impulsive moments, but he’s not an idiot. And he trusts you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t hold your opinion so highly,” Frankie added. You were quiet for a few moments, considering this. You and Pope spent most of your days together going over data, fragments of recorded conversations, picking apart stories from less-than-reliable leads; you were in one another’s faces all the time. You drove one another crazy sometimes, but at the end of the day, Santiago looked to you for your expertise. It had been your skill that had found the doctoring in Hernandez’s photo, and it had been Pope’s trust in you that had kept him out of that bust. <br/><br/>“I guess so,” You conceded begrudgingly, glancing toward the office door. Pope hadn’t been in, and you weren’t sure he would be, but you weren’t sure you wanted him walking in on this particular conversation. <br/><br/>“I mean it’s not all the time, obviously,” You added, “but when things go wrong, I mean especially with that...Fucking Isabella situation...Ugh.” You meant that both ways. <br/><br/>“Sure you’re not jealous?” Frankie asked lightly. You tipped your head forward, frowning as if he was right in front of you. <br/><br/>“What? ... Frankie,” You warned. <br/><br/>“It was just a thought!” He laughed on the other end. <br/><br/>“Yeah, well, I love you, but it was a bad one, <em>*chulo</em>.” <br/><br/>It was hardly the first time Frankie had hinted at the possibility of something between yourself and Pope. <br/><br/>It wasn’t that you didn’t find Santiago attractive. When you’d first met in the service, you’d felt some... Pull to him. But at the time, you were determined not to get mixed up with any of the guys that you worked with. You’d slipped up once or twice, but never where Pope was involved. Even if Frankie hinted at the two of you being a ‘good fit’ almost every single time the two of you spoke, you were resolved not to go there. <br/><br/>These past two years had shown you a completely different side of Pope than you’d known in the service. You’d seen him at his brightest moments and at his breaking points; he’d seen you at yours. You didn’t want anything to change the relationship the two of you had developed. While it felt like you never saw the guy for anything but work, you knew that there was no one in the world that you were closer to. You didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. Jealousy over Pope’s ... Flings? Trysts? Whatever they were-- with the informants he used would <em>definitely </em>do that. <br/><br/>So whenever you felt even one unwelcome, unwanted, ugly feeling about it creeping up on you, you’d just slap it down. It was like emotional whack-a-mole. Not that you’d ever in a million years tell ‘Fish that you felt jealousy over those incidences (because hey, was it really jealously if you only let it last, like, ten seconds?). <br/><br/>“Did I lose you, Q?” Frankie asked. <br/><br/>You cleared your throat. <br/><br/>“What?” You asked. <br/><br/>“I said, ‘I’ll keep my thoughts to myself next time’.” <br/><br/>“No you won’t,” You chuckled a little. You glanced back as you heard the door open. <br/><br/>“I got a ‘Fish on the line,” You said, smiling at Santiago. <br/><br/>“Gimme,” Santiago ordered, holding his hand out for the phone. <br/><br/>“I’m passing you off to Pope,” You warned Frankie before holding the phone out for Santiago to take. <br/><br/>“Hey, Frankie,” Santiago’s face brightened instantly, and you couldn’t help your smile at the look on his face. You turned your attention down to the coffee maker. <br/><br/>“Make me some for me, too, would you, <em>Reina</em>,” Santiago leaned in to murmur against your hair before he stepped away to set his things down at the desk. You rolled your eyes a little bit, choosing not to respond as you added more coffee grounds to the filter. You let yourself zone out as Santiago dipped into Spanish. Your ear caught on every few words, but you weren’t not really paying attention; he knew better than to gossip about you in English <em>or</em> Spanish when you were nearby. <br/><br/>You poured yourself and Santiago steaming mugs of coffee, adding two sugars to Santiago’s. You set his aside for him before you picked your mug up, blowing on the coffee lightly to cool it. <br/><br/>“Frankie had to go, his shift was starting,” You heard him say as he came up behind you. He tucked your phone into your back pocket before he leaned against you, resting his hands on either side of you on the counter. <br/><br/>“You’re not gonna drink your coffee?” You asked as his forehead rested on your shoulder. <br/><br/>" ‘m gonna let it cool down,” He muttered. You reached up, lightly scratching the top of his head. <br/><br/>“You alright?” You asked gently. <br/><br/>“Fine.” <br/><br/>He lifted his head, nudging his nose against the hinge your jaw. <br/><br/>“Have I told you that you look beautiful today?” He murmured. <br/><br/>“What did you hear from Diego?” You asked, seeing right through his flattery. Pope groaned, straightening up and leaning back against the counter after picking up his coffee cup. <br/><br/>“He’s bringing in a specialist. Someone that he worked with on the Benavides bust a few years ago.” <br/><br/>You frowned. <br/><br/>“Benavides, that was Lorea’s... Godfather?” <br/><br/>“Ten points to Gryffindor,” Santiago nodded as he brought his mug up for a sip. You rolled your eyes. <br/><br/>“That’s not my house and you know it,” You grumbled. <br/><br/>“<em>Anyway,”</em> Santiago went on, “Just...” He pushed a breath out through his nose, turning his head to look at you, “I just wanted to give you a heads up that someone else is gonna be around, you know? We’re gonna be expected to share our intel with <em>someone else</em>.” <br/><br/>“... I think this is bothering you more than you thought it would bother me,” You said carefully. <br/><br/>Santiago’s jaw clenched, and he looked into his mug. <br/><br/>“This isn’t the worst thing in the world,” You added, “We can always use another set of eyes on something.” <br/><br/>“Our eyes are just fine,” Santiago grumbled defensively. You looked him over for a moment before you set your mug down and turned to him. <br/><br/>“Come on,” You held your hand out to him a hand out to him. <br/><br/>“What?” He asked. <br/><br/>“I think a spin around the office would do you some good.” Santiago’s face broke into a smile then. <br/><br/>“No, it’s alright,” He chuckled, “But I appreciate the offer.” <br/><br/>He pushed away from the counter, heading for his desk, and you sighed in relief. Thank fuck. You really weren’t in a dancing mood.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You’d spent the day gathering materials to bring the specialist up to speed on what you and Pope had been doing. You’d been comfortable with what you’d put together, from the information from Pope’s informants to what Diego knew about Hernandez’s last whereabouts (failed bust aside). When you’d gotten home, you’d cleaned your apartment, showered, and made yourself dinner. Now, you were trying to find something to watch. <br/><br/>You didn’t bring your home work with you. It was a matter of safety: on the off-chance someone broke in and went through your things, you didn’t want anyone getting a hold of your intel, or any of yours or Pope’s information. So, on the odd night you found yourself in your apartment and not in your office, you were sometimes at a loss for what to do. <br/><br/>It wasn’t that you didn’t know how to have <em>fun</em> or anything, it was just that, well, this job had... Kind of taken over your life. Due to the nature of it, you hadn’t made many friends when you’d moved to Colombia; your main points of contact in the country were Diego and Pope. Diego was definitely not your biggest fan lately, and god knew what Pope got up to most nights. <br/><br/>That was why it was such a jolt when you heard a knock on your door. <br/><br/>You frowned, pushing yourself off of the couch quietly. Pope had had three break-ins since he’d been in the country; you’d had one. You reached for the gun you kept in your thigh holster while you were home and stepped across the floor carefully, avoiding the creaky spots. You peered through the keyhole, then relaxed when you saw who it was. You reached up, undoing the lock (and the two deadbolts that you’d added) before opening the door. <br/><br/>“You should’ve let me know you were coming over,” You scolded, watching Pope amble in. He pouted. <br/><br/>“You’re being real mean to the guy that brought alcohol,” He said, holding up a bag. <br/><br/>“Alcohol you like or alcohol I like?” You asked, shutting the door behind him and redoing the locks. When you turned, you saw Pope eyeing the gun in your hand.<br/><br/>“You’re packing when you’re home?” <br/><br/>“As if you don’t-- Gimme that,” You tucked your gun away again before taking the bag from Pope. <br/><br/>“What’ve I done to earn a visit?” You asked, setting the bag on your counter and unpacking it. <br/><br/>“What have you <em>done</em>? Uh, how about nothing but work, that’s what you’ve done.” <br/><br/>He was already getting cups out of your cabinet. <br/><br/>“That’s not true. I’ve also been known to eat and shower,” You argued, “And tequila, Santiago? Really?” You asked, holding the bottle up and arching a brow, “Please tell me this is for you<br/><br/>“Of course it’s me for, <em>Reina.</em> I know you better than that.” <br/><br/>You set the bottle down before reaching back into the bag to unload the rest. You glanced over as Santiago set two shot glasses down beside you. <br/><br/>“No<em>.</em>” <br/><br/>“C’<em>mooooon</em>,”  Santiago bumped his hip against yours, as he reached for the tequila. “One shot. One little shot.” <br/><br/>“God,” You mumbled, shaking your head, “Why do you want me to be so hungover for work? We have a meeting.” <br/><br/>“Speakin’a which,” Santiago said as he poured the shots, “You steer tomorrow.” <br/><br/>“Why?” <br/><br/>“Because I love the sound of your voice.” <br/><br/>“Cute. Real reason?” <br/><br/>“Take your shot.” <br/><br/>“Real reason.” <br/><br/>“I’m still gonna be getting used to this guy. Clearly he’s good or Diego wouldn’t have brought him in, but how he responds to you driving the meeting is going to tell me a lot about him. His hang-ups about the information, what his questions are -- whether or not he directs them at me or you, even if you’re the one doing the talking.” <br/><br/>You nodded slowly. <br/><br/>“You couldn’t have just started with that?” <br/><br/>“Have you considered that maybe I do really love your voice? Take your shot,” Santiago said, picking up his own shot glass and lightly knocking it against yours. You rolled your eyes, picking it up and knocking it against Santiago’s in turn before knocking it back. Santiago laughed at the way you wrinkled your nose. <br/><br/>“I’ll make you a drink,” He chuckled, grabbing what he’d brought for you. You leaned back, watching him. <br/><br/>“...Why’d you come over?” <br/><br/>“ ‘Cause I never see you outside of the office, and we should fix that.” <br/><br/>The look that Santiago gave you shouldn’t have made fire curl in the pit of your stomach. You chalked the feeling up to the tequila. <br/><br/>"Haven’t mentioned that before,” You folded your arms across your chest, watching Santiago turn back to your drink. <br/><br/>“Well I’ve been thinking about it and <em>one</em> of us hasn’t worked out that whole telepathy thing.” <br/><br/>“Oh,” You laughed, “Oh that is so not a one-person problem in this situation.” <br/><br/>“You sure about that?” <br/><br/>“Tell me what I’m thinking right now.” <br/><br/>“You’re thinking I should’ve finished making this drink about ten seconds ago.” <br/><br/>Santiago held your drink out to you, brow arched. You narrowed your eyes at him as you took the glass.<br/><br/>“Alright, maybe it is a one-person problem.” <br/><br/>-- <br/><br/>You had a slight headache when you woke up the next morning. You groaned quietly, running your hand through your hair. <br/><br/>“Fuck,” You mumbled, sitting up. Why did you smell coffee? <br/><br/>...That’s right, you and Santiago had overdone it, and you’d told him that he could crash on the couch. At least he was repaying you by making coffee...Shirtless. <br/><br/>Santiago was standing in your kitchen, <em>very</em> shirtless, reaching into your cabinet to put away your bag of coffee beans. Your mouth was suddenly incredibly dry. You took a few more steps into the kitchen, knocking on the door frame to let him know that you were there so you didn’t startle him. <br/><br/>“Mornin’,” He smiled at you, watching you push yourself up to sit on the counter, “You okay over there?” <br/><br/>“I’m never letting you talk me into shots again,” You answered flatly. <br/><br/>“You say that <em>every</em> time,” Santiago chuckled, setting down a cup of coffee and a bottle of advil beside your thigh. You grunted, picking up the bottle and opening it. <br/><br/>“How are you so fucking chipper?” <br/><br/>“Your couch is actually freaky comfortable, you know?” <br/><br/>“I know, I’ve fall asleep on it before. I sleep on it more than I do in my bed... Which sounds really sad out loud.” <br/><br/>Santiago leaned against the counter beside you, cradling his own cup of coffee. <br/><br/>“Ready for today?” He asked. <br/><br/>-- <br/><br/>You were not fucking ready. <br/><br/>It wasn’t the presentation, you knew that thing backward and forward, you had the presentation on <em>lock</em>. It was the specialist that Diego brought in. <br/><br/>Alexander Zambrano was a fugitive recovery specialist. Before you’d joined the service, you’d considered fugitive recovery. Alex had been in training at the time; he’d been one of the trainees you’d spoken to, and you’d kept in touch when you’d been in the service. <br/><br/>Fugitive recovery was an avenue you’d explored before you’d left the service, too, when you were considering going home. It was before Santiago had asked you to work with him. You’d reached out to Alex, and when you’d visited home to get your things in order, you’d... Well, you’d explored him, too, so to speak. <br/><br/>You hadn’t seen or spoken to him since.<br/><br/>But there he was, strolling into your office behind Pope. You could only imagine the look on your face, how it must’ve changed when you’d realized. He looked more or less the same - same dark chestnut brown hair (though it was longer now, you could see that it was swept back behind his ears), same honey brown eyes; he’d shaved, and was no longer sporting any facial hair, but that same wolfish grin took over his face as he was ‘introduced’ to you. Santiago clocked the look Alex was giving you as he introduced the two of you. <br/><br/>“-- This is Alexander Zambrano... Alexander, you thirsty, or hungry?” Santiago asked, gesturing toward the kitchenette. <br/><br/>“No, I’m good. And Alex is fine-- Or ‘Z’, or ‘Brano, none of this ‘Alexander’ stuff, <em>hermano</em>,” Alex smiled at Santiago. You saw the tightness around Santiago’s eyes; you knew he hated that familiarity from people he didn’t actually know. <br/><br/>Santiago nodded before he gestured for Alex to settle where you were set up, “All set, <em>Reina</em>?” <br/><br/>“Yeah,” You nodded. Alex raised a brow as he sat down, catching your eye and mouthing ‘<em>Reina’</em>? You shot him a look of warning before clearing your throat. <br/><br/>“Let’s get to it, then.” <br/><br/>-- <br/><br/>“So this is what you’ve been up to.” <br/><br/>You glanced toward the door where Santiago had left to take a call from Diego. <br/><br/>“Uh-huh,” You confirmed, “How long have you been down here?” <br/><br/>“A week,” Alex leaned against the table. He looked you over, and you raised a brow. <br/><br/>“What?” <br/><br/>“I’ve never seen you in action before... For work.” <br/><br/>“Okay, that level of specificity was completely unnecessary,” You argued, but you were smiling. <br/><br/>“You like it, though?” <br/><br/>“The specificity?” <br/><br/>“The <em>work</em>.” <br/><br/>“Yeah, I like it... What’d Diego tell you about me?” <br/><br/>Alex cringed, “He told me you’re kind of a bitch, but you know what you’re doing.” <br/><br/>“Just <em>kind of</em> a bitch? Oh, I can do better than that.” <br/><br/>Alex laughed loudly as Santiago came back in. You flattened your smile as his eyes darted from Alex to you. <br/><br/>“All set in here?” Santiago asked. <br/><br/>“More than,” Alex said, standing, “Thanks for the run-through,” he turned back to you, holding his hand out, “I’ll see you around. In case I’ve got questions, your number’s the same, right?” <br/><br/>You reached up, shaking his head and mumbling, “Yep.”<br/><br/>Alex held onto your hand for a little longer than necessary as he added, “It was good to see you again.” <br/><br/>“I bet,” You nodded. Alex grinned, shooting you a wink before turning to say goodbye to Santiago. You shook your head, watching him go. You lowered your eyes as you felt Santiago turn back to look at you. Whatever questions he had, you weren’t sure you knew how to answer. <br/><br/>“He seems nice,” Santiago commented, coming back to your desks. <br/><br/>“I guess.” <br/><br/>“...<em>Reina</em>.” <br/><br/>You looked up at Santiago, waiting for his questions. Santiago had this little wrinkle in his brow; his lips were pressed into a thin line. <br/><br/>“...Want some more coffee?” He asked instead. <br/><br/>"Please and thank you.”</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Santiago technically didn’t need you in the office; you could work from your apartment if you wanted to, but you really didn’t like to, for safety’s sake.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: Cursing; light tension. Like, super light. Feather-light, even, I think.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You answered your phone without checking to see who it was.<br/><br/>“If you’re on your way and not bringing coffee, I’m gonna lose my mind, ‘cause the fucking machine is on the fritz again.”<br/><br/>“I wasn’t planning on bringing coffee, but I can swing something, sure.”<br/><br/>You cringed.<br/><br/>“Shit, sorry, ‘Brano,” You muttered, resting your head on your hand, “What’s up?”<br/><br/>“No no, tell me more about this coffee machine.”<br/><br/>“<em>Alex</em>,” You stressed.<br/><br/>“What are you doing right now?-- I promise this is work-related.”<br/><br/>You weren’t sure you believed him.<br/><br/>“Diego busted a shipment heading to Envigado. I’m comparing the lab results, checking how close they are to Lorea’s typical product.”<br/><br/>“Where were they headed to?”<br/><br/>“Envigado.”<br/><br/>“Say that again.”<br/><br/>“Envi-- You said this was work-related.”<br/><br/>“Is what you’re doing something that can wait until tomorrow?”<br/><br/>“...Technically, but it won’t, since I’m doing it today.”<br/><br/>“Save it for tomorrow.”<br/><br/>“And what will I be doing instead?”<br/><br/>“Coming with me on a stakeout -- Before you ask why,” Alex tacked on just as you were opening your mouth, “You’ve been down here longer than I have. I’m sure you know these back roads and drop sites way better than I do.”<br/><br/>You considered that. He wasn’t wrong.<br/><br/>“Where are you going?” You asked.<br/><br/>“Jaramillo. And as penance, I will say it as <em>many</em> times as you want.”<br/><br/>You rolled your eyes, “Just the once was enough, thank you.”<br/><br/>You looked at the lab reports on your laptop. You’d already downloaded them; you could bring them with you. Santiago technically didn’t <em>need </em>you in the office; you could work from your apartment if you wanted to, but you really didn’t like to, for safety’s sake.<br/><br/>"... I’ll buy you coffee,” Alex added in a sing-song voice.<br/><br/>--<br/><br/>“See? This is the glamor you missed by choosing a different path,” Alex gestured to the windshield of his truck. You glanced away from your laptop screen, scanning the windshield before lowering your eyes again.<br/><br/>“I’m not missing it, though, am I? We’re here now.”<br/><br/>Alex shifted in his seat, folding his arms across his chest, gazing across the street at the house he’d been monitoring. It had been a nearly two hour drive to Jaramillo; you hadn’t drunk all of your coffee, you were trying to pace yourself.<br/><br/>“...So what do you do for fun now that you’re down here?”<br/><br/>“This.”<br/><br/>“Stakeouts?”<br/><br/>“Lab reports.”<br/><br/>You felt Alex turn his head to look at you and you snapped your fingers, pointing through the windshield.<br/><br/>“We’re here to stakeout, so. Stake.”<br/><br/>“Technically parking was the staking.”<br/><br/>“Then...” You trailed off, racking your brain. Alex laughed.<br/><br/>“You’re trying so hard not to say ‘out’, aren’t you?”<br/><br/>“Shut up!”<br/><br/>You glanced down at your phone as it rang. You actually checked the called ID before answering this time.<br/><br/>“Hey.”<br/><br/>“So you haven’t been kidnapped?” Pope asked.<br/><br/>“Did you not see the post-it I left on my monitor that says ‘I haven’t been kidnapped?’”<br/><br/>You waited as you listened to Pope walk through the office before he laughed.<br/><br/>“You actually left me a post-it,” He muttered, “Where the hell are you?”<br/><br/>“Stakeout with ‘Brano up in Jaramillo.”<br/><br/>“Say that again,” Alex muttered, leaning across the console and you reached out, smacking him on the arm. He reeled away, snickering and rubbing at the spot.<br/><br/>“You need me?” You asked, “I’m going over those lab reports now, I’ll have the results by the end of the day.”<br/><br/>“...No, you’re fine. Just making sure you were alright.”<br/><br/>You smiled a bit at that.<br/><br/>“Yeah, I’m good,” You promised.<br/><br/>“Let me know when you get back to the city,” Pope added.<br/><br/>“Will do. Bye.”<br/><br/>You hung up, tucking your phone away before turning your eyes back to your laptop. You could feel Alex watching you.<br/><br/>“You two seem close.”<br/><br/>You didn’t answer Alex, just shrugged a shoulder. You weren’t sure how to voice that particular... situation.<br/><br/>“Why’s he call you that?” Alex added after a moment.<br/><br/>“‘Cause he does.”<br/><br/>“...Can I call you that?”<br/><br/>You turned your head a little, brows raised.<br/><br/>“I’d like to see you try.”<br/><br/>--</p><p>“You’re still here?”<br/><br/>You hadn’t expected to see Pope in the office. He glanced back toward you before turning back to the file he was looking over.<br/><br/>“Still here,” He nodded, “Everything go alright?”<br/><br/>“Fine. ‘Brano doubled back a few times to make sure we weren’t followed, so the ride back took a little longer. We didn’t catch any activity or known associates, though,” You sighed as you lowered yourself into your seat. You plugged your laptop in before shrugging out of your jacket. You closed your eyes, resting your chin on your hand as you waited for your laptop to charge a little before turning it back on.<br/><br/>“The samples weren’t a fuckin’ match,” You grumbled, “So either Lorea’s lacing or this is someone else’s shit that Diego managed to snatch.”<br/><br/>Pope didn’t answer. You peeked an eye open to look at him and found him staring hard down at the files in front of him.<br/><br/>“...You okay?” You asked.<br/><br/>“Are you hungry?” He lifted his head.<br/><br/>“What?”<br/><br/>“Are you hungry, <em>Reina</em>. You know, that feeling you get when you haven’t eaten for a while?” He asked, brows raising as he looked at you.<br/><br/>“Slightly, yeah. Why?”<br/><br/>“Let’s go.”<br/><br/>Santiago was up and out of his chair without further explanation.<br/><br/>“Go where?” You asked, watching Pope.<br/><br/>“To grab something to eat. C’mon, you’ve been sitting down all day,” He braced himself against the back of the chair, eyeing you expectantly. You hesitated, glancing down at your laptop. You had some paperwork that you wanted to finish up.<br/><br/>--<br/><br/>“Quit hogging the <em>salchipapas</em>,” You whined. Pope laughed, pushing the plate toward you.<br/><br/>“Didn’t realize you were so hangry, <em>Reina</em>.”<br/><br/>“Well I didn’t realize you were the kind of person to invite someone to dinner and then hog all the fuckin’ food.”<br/><br/>Pope grunted and you rolled your eyes.<br/><br/>“So what’d you and Alexander talk about?”<br/><br/>You frowned.<br/><br/>“What?”<br/><br/>“On the stakeout.”<br/><br/>When you didn’t answer right away, Pope cast an unimpressed glance at you.<br/><br/>“What, you just sat in silence for six hours?”<br/><br/>“No, we sat in silence for five hours and forty seven minutes.”<br/><br/>The corner of Pope’s mouth twitched as he leaned back in his seat.<br/><br/>“So?” He pressed, “What was it? Best local spots, favorite pastimes… The good old days, maybe?”<br/><br/>“If you think this is subtle, Garcia, it’s not.”<br/><br/>“You two close?”<br/><br/>“Close? Close like what?” You shook your head, confused, “Close like me and you, close like me and the guys, close like me and Diego--”<br/><br/>“You and Diego are not close,” Pope laughed. He watched you for a long moment, face shifting to something in the neighborhood of serious.<br/><br/>“...You two ever…”<br/><br/>“...Ever…?”<br/><br/>“Don’t make me say it, <em>Reina</em>.”<br/><br/>“I don’t know what you’re skirting around, Santiago.”<br/><br/>He sighed heavily as he folded his arms on the table, leaning against it.<br/><br/>“Date?” He finally said.<br/><br/>“No.”<br/><br/>“Fuck?”<br/><br/>“Yes.”<br/><br/>Were you flushing? You had to be able to pass that off as the heat.<br/><br/>“That gonna be a problem?”<br/><br/>Your stomach rolled as a wave of stunned confusion hit you, and for a split-second, you wondered if the <em>salchipapas</em> were about to make a reappearance.<br/><br/>“A problem?” You repeated, dumbfounded.<br/><br/>“It could complicate things,” Pope shrugged.<br/><br/>“Well thank god you’re not speaking from experience.”<br/><br/>If that had hurt Pope at all, he didn’t let it show; not a blink, not a flinch, not a frown. He just huffed out a humorless little laugh before he reached out, dragging the <em>salchipapas</em> back to his side of the table. </p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After weeks of recon, Alex had gotten a tip about the location of one of Hernandez’s suspected hitmen four hours ago; Santiago had called and woken you up from an hour’s worth of sleep to get you into the office to coordinate.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Cursing; alcohol; canon-typical violence; light tension; some fluff. I give you some fluff!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“How many are inside?”</p><p>“I’m not sure, but I’ve got eyes on ‘im,” Alex’s voice was gruff and quiet in my earpiece, “I’m goin’ in--”</p><p>“No no no, hold,” You hurried to say, “We need to confirm with Diego and Pope first.”</p><p>“I’m gonna lose my window here, kid--”</p><p>“You fucking hold when I tell you to, Zambrano,” You snapped.</p><p>Where the fuck was Pope?</p><p>After weeks of recon, Alex had gotten a tip about the location of one of Hernandez’s suspected hit men; he’d been tailing him since he’d gotten the tip. Santiago had called and woken you up from an hour’s worth of sleep to get you into the office to coordinate. He told you that he’d be getting into position with Diego. Alex was now stationed outside of the bar in his car, looking through the only window he could see through without getting too close. If the hit man was a jumpy one and got a bad feeling with Alex hanging around, this could blow up in our faces.</p><p>You were on comms from the office, earpiece in, standing at your desk and tapped into a live feed of the cameras outside of the bar. You stood at the desk, hands braced against it as your leg bounced.</p><p>“Kid--” Alex started to argue again, but you shushed him as you saw a car pull up. A pause, then you saw Pope stumble out of it. Your eyes narrowed. Was the motherfucker drunk?</p><p>“Hold, ‘Brano, Santiago just--”</p><p>“Yeah, I see him,” Alex snarled on the other end. You straightened from the desk, folding your arms across your chest and watching the live feed as he meandered inside.</p><p>“... What are you seeing?” You asked.</p><p>“Your boss is at the bar ordering. Doesn’t look like he needs to, though.”</p><p>“Shut up,” You snapped, “Just--” Your phone buzzed with a text and you pulled it out, looking down to find a text from Santiago.</p><p>
  <em>Target confirmed. 3 others inside -2 patrons, 1 bartender. Unsure if more in the back</em>
</p><p>“‘Brano, there are 3 in there,” You relayed. There were a few minutes of quiet before you heard Alex say,</p><p>“You know how I know your boss is batshit?”</p><p>“How.”</p><p>“He just punched a hit man in the shoulder.”</p><p>Your stomach rolled, fighting the urge to text Pope and ask what the hell he was thinking. Your phone buzzed again.</p><p>B<em>ringing him out. Back alley</em></p><p>“Fuck,” You hissed.</p><p>“What?” Alex asked.</p><p>“Pope’s drawing him out-- Back alley--” You warned. Alex hissed a swear in your ear and you watched him dart across your feed, scurrying to where you’d said with Diego close behind.</p><p>You listened with bated breath as you heard the slamming of a backdoor, swearing, and the thuds of scuffle. You knew better than to ask questions in the middle of a fight. A few more thumps, then a sigh from Alex.</p><p>“... ‘Brano?” You asked, finally.</p><p>“Target acquired. We’re in one piece, kid, take a breath,” Alex answered you. You let the air rush out of you as you sagged over your desk.</p><p>“Glad to hear it,” You mumbled, hand rubbing at the back of your neck as you tried to slow your pounding heart.</p><p>“We’re taking him in for questioning-- You want her to hang tight?” You could tell that the question wasn’t directed at you. Your phone buzzed with the words,</p><p><em>Report write-up</em> from Santiago.</p><p>“He says he’ll talk to you himself,” Alex relayed.</p><p>“He already did. Thanks, ‘Brano.”</p><p>“Yes ma’am. Over and out.”</p><p>He cut his comm link. You stayed on the line as you watched Santiago, Alex, and Diego lead the handcuffed hitman into the car that was still parked out front. You watched as Santiago looked up at the camera you were watching through, and he shot you a wink. You scoffed, shaking your head.</p><p><em>You play a very convincing drunk</em>, you texted Santiago as you watched the car pull out of the lot.</p><p><em>I’ve had a lot of practice</em>, was his answer. You snorted as you tossed your phone onto your desk. You yanked your earpiece out of your and tossed it atop your phone, tipping your head back and scrubbing at your eyes again. That hour of sleep had not been enough. At least Pope had gotten a new coffee machine for the office.</p><p>--</p><p>Your fingers flitted over the locks, one after the other, before you yanked the door open. Pope made it two steps in before you slammed the door and re-locked it behind him. He was already reaching for you as you turned to face him. You wrapped your arms around him, pressing your face into his shoulder and closing your eyes. He was fine, he was solid, and his arms were wrapped around you, anchoring you to him.</p><p>The first time you’d done this, you’d been working for Pope for a few months. He had laughed a little bit, patted you on the back twice and told you that he was fine, that in that instance, he’d never been in any danger. You’d had to explain that while he may’ve felt that way, it was difficult for you to hang back, sometimes. You were in his ear, you had limited access to the cameras in the area; you couldn’t always see that he was fine. The time after that, though, when he’d been in a hairier situation, Pope had held you just as hard as you did to him. Pope never begrudged you those hugs any time after that. Busts and arrests always led to a somewhat touchy cool-down period. It was reassurance that you were both still there; it was one of the reasons that Frankie was always so insistent that there was something between you two.</p><p>“I wanted to kill you when I thought you were drunk,” You mumbled, “God, you scared the shit out of me.”</p><p>“Not my intention, sweetheart. Just had to fake it to get the guy outside,” Pope mumbled. You knew that you sounded freaked out; Pope only pulled out the pet names when you seemed to need extra soothing, like a frightened animal. Pope leaned away to get a look at you, and you frowned when you saw the bruise blossoming on his cheek. It wasn’t wholly unexpected, it had sounded like the man hadn’t gone down without a fight.</p><p>“Lemme get something for that--” You started to pull away, but Pope held you fast, frowning.</p><p>“When’s the last time you slept?” He asked.</p><p>“You don’t let me go, Garcia, I’m gonna poke that bruise.” It was an empty threat, and he knew it.</p><p>“I can handle that. Answer me, when’s the last time you slept?”</p><p>“I’m winding up for a bruise-poke, mister.”</p><p>“You’d never hurt me,” Santiago murmured, “Not on purpose. Now answer me.” Your stomach twisted at that - the softness with which he said it, the trust that it conveyed.</p><p>“... I’m not tired, Santi,” You insisted before you gently pulled away from him, “I’ve got frozen peas, and I’ve gooot-- mixed vegetable,” You added, opening the freezer.</p><p>“Dealer’s choice,” Santiago’s voice floated in from the living room. You grabbed the frozen peas, then a clean dish towel, wrapping the bag so that it wouldn’t freeze Santiago’s cheek. You reached into the fridge for a couple of beers while you were at it.</p><p>“You know it’s almost ten in the morning, right?” Pope had settled down on your couch.</p><p>“You saying you don’t want your beer?” You asked, setting the beers down on the coffee table in front of you.</p><p>“Didn’t say that. Just making sure we both know what time it is.”</p><p>You rolled your eyes, passing Pope the peas with a mutter of, “Here,” Before reaching out to open your beer. Santiago took hold of the wrapped peas, pressing them to his cheek. You slouched back on your couch, tipping your head back against Santiago’s outstretched arm. Santiago curled his arm, drawing you in. You shifted, scooching a little closer and resting your head on his shoulder. Santiago’s fingers skimmed through your hair.</p><p>“Careful with that, mister,” You mumbled.</p><p>“Mm, you telling me that because if I keep playing with your hair, you’re gonna fall asleep?”</p><p>“I plead the fifth.”</p><p>“Just because I told you that I needed you to do a report write-up didn’t mean it had to be done right away,” Santiago argued. You peered up at Santiago.</p><p>“I wasn’t gonna be able to sleep after that and you know it. Staying up was easier...What’d you get out of him?”</p><p>Santiago shook his head a little bit.</p><p>“We’ll talk about it later, <em>Reina</em>,” he murmured, working his fingertips in small circles. You felt your eyelids growing heavy.</p><p>“Stop that,” You laughed a little.</p><p>“You need sleep,” Santiago argued.</p><p>“If I fall asleep now, I won’t sleep later.”</p><p>Santiago huffed, but he let his hand drift down to the side of your neck and settle there. You lifted your beer to your lips, taking a sip.</p><p>“Gimme some,” Santiago grumbled. You snorted, lifting your head and pressing the bottle to his lips. You tipped it carefully and he hummed, signalling for you to lower it.</p><p>“Why did I even bother bringing you your own?” You asked.</p><p>“Beats me,” Santiago chuckled.</p><p>--</p><p>“You’re not going in.”</p><p>You had thought Pope was asleep. You’d left him dozing on your couch a few hours earlier, covered in a spare blanket, his un-bruised cheek squished into a throw pillow. You’d spent the last few hours tip-toeing around your apartment to let him rest. You apparently weren’t quiet enough as you got ready to go, though.</p><p>“I didn’t mean to wake you,” You crouched beside your bag, unzipping it to make sure you had your notebook.</p><p>“Were you gonna leave me another--” Santiago spotted the post-it note that you’d left at eye-level for him on his unopened beer on the coffee table.</p><p>“...Seriously?” He asked, voice incredibly unimpressed.</p><p>“I’m just-- Alex texted me about a few tips from the interrogation and I wanted to see what I could line anything up with our intel.”</p><p>“Did you get any sleep at all?”</p><p>No.</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>Santiago narrowed his eyes at you, frowning.</p><p>“<em>Reina</em>.”</p><p>“Go back to sleep, okay?” You straightened up, pulling your bag over your shoulder, “I’ll be at the office-- There’s food and beer in the fridge-- more beer, beer that’s still actually cold.”</p><p>“...<em>Reina</em>.”</p><p>“Yeah?” Santiago was quiet for a few moments before he shook his head a little, slouching back onto your couch and throwing his arm across his eyes. You undid the locks, glancing at Pope over your shoulder. You tip-toed over to him, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his forehead. Then you straightened, making a bee-line for the door and shutting it behind yourself before you could see his reaction.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You checked in with Pope once a day, but you hadn’t seen him since he’d crashed at your apartment; he was chasing down his own leads.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Set before the movie. Not beta-read. Reina is Spanish for Queen.</p><p>Warnings: Cursing</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You scrubbed your hands over your eyes before you rested your cheeks on your hands. You eyed the stream of fresh coffee being poured into your mug before muttering, “Thanks.” Alex didn’t answer you, just patted you on the shoulder. <br/><br/>“Have you moved at all since you got here?” He asked, walking back to the kitchenette to put the coffee pot back down. <br/><br/>“Sure, plenty. I’ve typed, I’ve slouched forward, I’ve leaned back, I’ve stretched,” You listed off, lowering one of your hands back to the track pad of your laptop. Alex snorted. <br/><br/>“Healthy,” he muttered. <br/><br/>“Don’t start, Mister ‘I-Can-Go-Two-Days-In-A-Van-For-A-Stakeout’.”<br/><br/>You glanced up as Zambrano leaned against the desk beside you, looking down at your notebook and the map printouts that you had labeled beside it. <br/><br/>“Anything?” <br/><br/>“Not yet. I can’t get any of these tips to line up with the intel that we collected previously.” <br/><br/>“You’ve been hammering away at this stuff for a week, kid. Maybe taking a break and stepping back would give you a new perspective.” <br/><br/>“Maybe,” You mumbled. You’d spent the week following the bust of Hernandez’s hit man basically holed up in the office. You left about once a day, heading home for a shower, some rest, and to change clothes. You checked in with Pope once a day, but you hadn’t seen him since he’d crashed at your apartment; he was chasing down his own leads. He hadn’t pressed your getting any more rest since you’d left, but sometimes you could hear the question on the tip of his tongue before he let it go. <br/><br/>“I’ve gotta go, I’ve got a meeting down at the station, but don’t stay here too late, huh?” Alex said, rubbing a hand between your shoulder blades. You turned a smile up at him before you watched him go. You leaned back in your seat a bit. You’d never apologized to him for snapping at him the way you had the night of the bust, but he hadn’t asked you to. It was understood between the two of you that you were technically above him. Specialist or not, you’d been doing this far longer than Alex had; you’d been right to tell him to hold, and you’d gotten the damn guy in the end, anyway. <br/><br/>You pushed your chair back with a sigh, walking around your and Pope’s desks as you waited for a program on your laptop to load. You looked over the stay notes and files on Pope’s desk. You shook your head a little, reaching into your pocket and pulling your phone out, taking a picture of the files. <br/><br/>You texted him the picture before adding, <em>Putting these in the safe</em>. <br/><br/>He texted back a thumbs up emoji seconds later. You gathered the files up, straightening the stack before you picked them up and walked over to the small wall safe that was disguised as a bookshelf. You hadn’t accessed it while Alex had been around - you trusted him, of course, but you didn’t want any questions about what else was in it. You had essentially lived out of that office all week, the files weren’t in any danger, you just felt better if they were away. <br/><br/>You looked down as your phone buzzed again. You were positive it would be another text from Pope, but you smiled a bit when you saw who it was. <br/><br/>“Hey, Frank,” You greeted as you answered it, tucking the phone between your shoulder and ear. <br/><br/>“She’s alive,” Frankie teased on the other end. <br/><br/>“I know, I’m sorry,” You frowned, punching the combination to the safe in before swinging the door open to tuck the files away, “I saw that you called, this week has just… it’s been getting away from me.” <br/><br/>“You’re starting to sound like Pope.” <br/><br/>“Francisco Morales, you take that back <em>immediately</em>,” You ordered. Frankie chuckled on the other end. <br/><br/>“Hey, I knew it would happen eventually,” Frankie doubled down. <br/><br/>“Jerk. What’ve you been up to?” <br/><br/>You shut the wall safe as you listened to Frankie talk about work, and about how things were at home. <br/><br/>“Hey-- Pope told me about the bust you two were looped in on,” Frankie said as you settled back down at your desk. You huffed, pinching the bridge of your nose. <br/><br/>“Did he tell you that he punched a well-known hit man in the shoulder and subsequently got himself punched in the face?” You asked. <br/><br/>“Yeah, that came up.”<br/><br/>“Idiot.” <br/><br/>“He also mentioned that you kissed his forehead. What’s that about?” <br/><br/>You floundered for a few moments. Pope hadn’t mentioned that to you since it had happened; you hadn’t heard a peep out of him as you’d left the apartment, nothing. <br/><br/>“I--...That was during the cool-down period. It was just, like a ‘super glad you’re not dead’ kinda thing. Doesn’t count.” <br/><br/>“Doesn’t count for what?” <br/><br/>“For whatever you’re imagining it counting for.” <br/><br/>“Who says I’m imagining it counting for anything?” <br/><br/>“Frank.” <br/><br/>He snickered on the end, and you knew he was enjoying winding you up. You smiled, shaking your head a little bit. You hesitated before asking, <br/><br/>“Did he sound upset about it?” <br/><br/>“Nah. Surprised, but not upset.” <br/><br/>You hummed, thoughtful. You still couldn’t pinpoint what had sparked the urge to kiss his forehead, let alone what had made you think that it was actually a good idea. But things hadn’t been odd or strained between you and Pope since you’d done it. The two of you had just been busy. <br/><br/>“Why? Planning on kissing his forehead more often? Or moving those kisses elsewhere?” <br/><br/>“Don’t make it weird, <em>chulo</em>.” <br/><br/>“Shutting up.” <br/><br/>“Thank you.”<br/><br/>“What about this Alex guy?” <br/><br/>“What about him?” <br/><br/>“Pope said you two have fucked.” <br/><br/>“How kind of him to pass that information on.” <br/><br/>“Is that still… You know.” <br/><br/>“If Pope wants to know if ‘Brano and I are still fucking, he can ask me himself.” <br/><br/>Frankie laughed on the other end, “I don’t think he wants to know.” <br/><br/>You considered this for a moment. <br/><br/>“Alex and I haven’t been intimate in...Years. I mean, the last time was the last time I was in the States.” <br/><br/>“Oh… Was that the last time you…” <br/><br/>“Got some? Yes, Francisco, it’s been a while.” <br/><br/>“I mean, at least it’s like riding a --”<br/><br/>“Don’t say a bike, do not say it’s like riding a bike. God, and you say I’m the one sounding like Pope these days.”</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Pope had come back in such an odd mood - but then he always got a little like that when anyone tried to answer for you or tell you what to do. He didn’t take well to anyone else thinking or acting like they were your boss.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: Cursing; a pinch of fluff followed by a smidge of angst</p><p>Also there’s a song that comes up later and it doesn’t like come up but the song that I imagined for said scene is this one: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q9lmFmGx_wg </p><p>Take it or leave it, I trust you.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He wasn’t usually here when you did this, is the thing. <br/><br/>Typically, Pope sent you footage and went back to his place to crash while you combed through whatever it was, dug up anything valuable, <em>if</em> there was anything valuable. By the time all of that was done, Pope was usually conscious again, breezed into the office with coffee from the good place around the corner, and the two talked over the footage. <br/><br/>But he was there this time, pacing behind your chair, leaning over you every few seconds, breath ruffling your hair. The first few times, it was kinda cute. You’d missed him, the scent of his cologne, his grumbling. But after the tenth time, you hadn’t been able to discern any pattern. It was like trying to predict a jump-scare in a horror film, and it was starting to wear on you. So before he could even lean over you again, you raised a hand to stop him. <br/><br/>“Santi, seriously, you’re making me jumpy.” <br/><br/>“Sorry, sorry,” He mumbled. You felt him rest his hands on the back of your chair, steadying himself. Okay. Better. At least he wasn’t thudding behind you... And then his nail was tapping at the side of your chair, and you groaned, tipping your head back. It rested against his chest as you peered up at him. <br/><br/>“Go home, get some rest,” You urged, “This is gonna take a while, okay?” <br/><br/>Santiago’s mouth twisted in displeasure before he ducked down, dropping a kiss to the tip of your nose. <br/><br/>“Be back later,” He mumbled, stepping away from your chair so fast that your head fell back the rest of the way. You blinked up at the ceiling a few times as you heard him call back, “Text me if something comes up!” <br/><br/>And then the door closed. <br/><br/>You lifted your head, glancing over at the door. You didn’t know why you were looking at it - he wasn’t going to come back, right? After waiting for a few beats, you shook your head. No, definitely not coming right back. You raised your finger to the tip of your nose, poking it. Where the hell had that come from? <br/><br/>No matter where, you sure as hell weren’t telling Frankie. <br/><br/>-- <br/><br/>When the door opened again, you found yourself perking up. <br/><br/>And then you found yourself leaning back when you saw Alex stroll in. <br/><br/>“Well don’t everyone rush me at once,” He teased. You rolled your eyes, turning back to your screen. <br/><br/>“Whaddaya want, ‘Brano?” <br/><br/>“Diego says your boss has some intel,” He said, rounding to lean against your desk, “I’m trying to get in on that action.” <br/><br/>“Yeah, well, get in line, because this thing is buffering like a motherfucker.” <br/><br/>“Maybe it’s because you’re staring at it. A watched file...Always buffers.” <br/><br/>“That sounded better in your head, didn’t it.” <br/><br/>“Way better,” Alex conceded, turning and leaning over your shoulder like Pope had a few hours before. Unlike Pope, however, he was able to hold still for more than a few seconds. He even managed to keep quiet for a few minutes before he turned his head, murmuring in your ear, <br/><br/>“What are you doing for dinner?” <br/><br/>“Something else.” <br/><br/>“Something else than what?” <br/><br/>“Than whatever you were about to suggest,” You retorted, glancing back at him and finding his face very, very close to yours. He smiled. <br/><br/>“Well, it just so happens that I was going to suggest that you stay here and eat alone, so it’s nice to hear that you’re planning on switching it up.” <br/><br/>You laughed, unable to help it. <br/><br/>“You were going to suggest that I eat alone?” You repeated. Alex didn’t answer; instead, he just let his gaze drift down. <br/><br/>“... ‘Brano,” You warned quietly. <br/><br/>“Mm?” <br/><br/>“What are you doing?” <br/><br/>Before he could answer, your attention was drawn by the sound of the door closing. Pope was lingering in the doorway, frowning. <br/><br/>“Hey,” You greeted, turning back to the screen. <br/><br/>“...Anything?” Pope asked, coming deeper into office. <br/><br/>“Not a thing,” Alex answered. <br/><br/>“Not sure I was asking you, Zambrano.” <br/><br/>Your brows shot up at the tightness in Pope’s tone. Where the hell had that come from? You gave him a look, and he just arched a brow and asked, “Well?” <br/><br/>“Just what Alex said. Not a thing.” <br/><br/>“You know what?” Alex cleared his throat, “This one,” He lightly pushed at the back of your head, “Has probably been here all day-- That program gonna run without you?” <br/><br/>“Yeah, but--” You started. Alex shook his head. <br/><br/>“Let’s go get something to eat. All of us,” He added, smiling at Pope, “Come on, I’ve barely been out since I got down here. And if we play our cards right, Garcia, we might find another hitman for you to punch.” <br/><br/>-- <br/><br/>The meal had started off as the most awkward, stilted experience, but by its end, ‘Brano and Pope had fallen into a more steady rapport. You just leaned back and let it happen. It was preferable to whatever bickering had been going on back at the office. Pope had come back in such an odd mood - but then he always got a little like that when anyone tried to answer for you or tell you what to do. He didn’t take well to anyone else thinking or acting like they were your boss. <br/><br/>“Tequila shot, Q?” Alex asked as he flagged the waiter down. <br/><br/>“Nu-uh, she hates tequila,” Santiago shook the idea off. Alex turned back to you, surprised. <br/><br/>“Really? You had tequila shots when we were back home.” <br/><br/>You felt Santi’s eyes on you and you waved off the fact. <br/><br/>“I took it ‘cause they were given to us for <em>free</em>. If you’re gonna order me anything, get me a vodka shot-- but also don’t, because one of us is going back to the office after this and it’s clearly not gonna be either one of you.” <br/><br/>“Jesus,” Alex muttered as Santiago snorted a laugh. <br/><br/>“So what do you think, would <em>Reina</em> have been as good in Fugitive Recovery as she is down here?” Pope asked, eyes fixed on you. <br/><br/>“Well what you two are doing down here is kinda like fugitive recovery,” Alex pointed out, “Little more involved, though, my job is very tracking based, what you all do-- <em>this one</em> comparing lab reports and all.” <br/><br/>He reached up, yanking a piece of your hair as he said ‘<em>this one</em>’, and your hand came up, smacking him in the shoulder on instinct. He chuckled. <br/><br/>“She would’ve been fine,” He added, turning back to Pope. <br/><br/>“I would’ve been <em>fine</em>?” You repeated, turning back to Alex, “Jeez, what a ringing endorsement-- Dear diary!” <br/><br/>“I’m never paying you a compliment again--”<br/><br/>“My ears are burning.” <br/><br/>You and Alex stared each other down for a few seconds before Alex turned away to reach for his beer. You felt the weight of Santiago’s gaze on you and you turned to meet his eye to find that he had turned away. You frowned a little. You must’ve been mistaken. <br/><br/>“I should be getting back,” You sighed, rolling your neck, “The footage has gotta be done by now.” <br/><br/>“Come on, you promised me a dance,” Alex whined, nudging your arm with his. You glanced back at the small, semi-crowded dance floor in the restaurant. <br/><br/>“I was kidding,” You shrugged. <br/><br/>“<em>Reina</em> doesn’t dance,” Pope mumbled. <br/><br/>“She has before.” <br/><br/>“You’re a shithead, ‘Brano,” You said, pulling out your wallet. <br/><br/>“I’ve got it,” Pope said, shaking his head. <br/><br/>“Come on,” You groaned. <br/><br/>“Nope. Besides, I pay you, so that’s technically my money anyway, put your wallet away.” <br/><br/>“You know I hate that argument.” <br/><br/>“Which is why I only use it when I absolutely have to. Put your wallet away, <em>Reina</em>.” <br/><br/>“One dance,” Alex pressed. <br/><br/>“‘Brano--” <br/><br/>“We’ll flip a coin.” <br/><br/>You looked at him for a long moment before sighing, “Fine.” <br/><br/>Alex fished into his pocket, pulling out a coin. <br/><br/>“Heads or tails?” <br/><br/>“Heads.” <br/><br/>He flipped; you watched the light glint off of the coin before he caught it and flipped it over onto the back of his other hand. He lifted his palm from it, then grinned. <br/><br/>Tails. <br/><br/><em>Motherfucker</em>. <br/><br/>“Come on-- Come on, deal’s a deal,” He added, standing. You rolled your eyes, taking Alex’s hand as it was offering you and mouthing, ‘<em>Be right back</em>,’ to Pope before Alex pulled you onto the dance floor. <br/><br/>Alex wasn’t expecting any fancy footwork, which was smart - you didn’t do this often. The song that was playing was a slower tempo, too, and didn’t require anything more than for you to sway in Alex’s arms as he guided you among the other couples. <br/><br/>“Why are you like this?” You asked as the two of you moved. He arched a brow. <br/><br/>“What’s that supposed to mean?” <br/><br/>“We were having a good time, the three of us.” <br/><br/>“We’re still having a good time.” <br/><br/>“Alex.” <br/><br/>“I wanted to kiss you, you know? If he hadn’t come in. I was thinking about it. I’m still thinking about it.” <br/><br/>This maybe shouldn’t have been the shock it was; you’d seen the way Alex had been looking at your mouth, you knew how straightforward he could be. <br/><br/>“I could kinda tell,” You said after a few moments. <br/><br/>“What would happen if I did it now?” <br/><br/>“I’d taste like vodka and cholula.” <br/><br/>“Sexy.” <br/><br/>“Jesus, ‘Brano,” You laughed, shaking your head and looking down at your feet. You felt him turn his head, nuzzling into your hair as he murmured,  “...Tell me what you want.” <br/><br/>You considered. It had been a while. You knew Alex. You were <em>comfortable</em> with Alex, you liked him; you just weren’t sure you liked him the same way he liked you. So you lifted your head, met his eye, and said, “I want to go back to work.” <br/><br/>He didn’t frown or push you away; he didn’t stomp off. Alex just nodded. <br/><br/>“Can we at least wait for the song to finish?” <br/><br/>You nodded before resting your head on his shoulder. You swayed on in silence. <br/><br/>“I’m sorry,” You said as it ended. <br/><br/>“Don’t be, Q,” He gave you a light squeeze before steering back to the table. <br/><br/>The check had been paid, and Pope was gone.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Things between you and Santiago had been a little… Weird lately.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: Aaaaangst</p><p>I hope you lovely people had a lovely week</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You tried not to be presumptuous at first.</p><p>When you saw that Pope had left the table, you’d figured, well...Maybe he’d gotten a call from Diego. Or, maybe he’d headed back to the office ahead of you.</p><p>When you got back to the office, though, there was no one else there. Diego actually reached out to you to find out if Pope was around. You’d told him that he wasn’t at the office, so Diego had thanked you and hung up.</p><p>Alright. Not with Diego, not at the office… Maybe he was just tired. It had been a long couple of days for him.</p><p>You settled in at your desk, ready to comb through the footage that Pope had sent, and desperately trying not to think about the evening that you’d had.</p><p>You knew that Santiago tended to get a little protective of you, but the one-ups-manship between him and Alex had almost been interminable. It had stopped just short of Alex saying, “Well I’ve fucked her and you haven’t.” Frankly, you wouldn’t have put it past him to say so, especially considering his proposition that had followed.</p><p>You straightened up in your seat, grabbing your headphones and tugging them on to focus in on the footage that had finally fully loaded. You wanted to text Pope, make sure he was alright, but you fought that urge. You were worrying about him needlessly - you always worried about him.</p><p>-- </p><p>“Come on, you know I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important.”</p><p>Things between you and Alex had been the same as they always were, even after you’d turned him down. The two of you were more focused on work than anything else. You’d been able to track down a few leads from the footage that Pope had gotten, intel that you’d passed on to Alex, Diego, and Pope. The four of you had been working on your own ops and leads for the past few days, but now Alex was reaching out to you, asking you to scope out a potential hideaway of Hernandez’s.</p><p>“You know the area better than I do, Q. I wouldn’t ask if I really didn’t need you.”</p><p>And maybe it was naïve of you, but you believed him.</p><p>“Gimme five,” You said, standing and closing your files, adding, “I’ll meet you in the car.”</p><p>You watched him go before you carried your files over to the wall safe for safe keeping (and then wondered if that was why they called it ‘safe keeping’). You also jotted a quick note down to Santiago about where you’d be.<br/><br/>Things between you and Santiago had been a little… Weird lately. He hadn’t been reaching out for the sake of anything other than work. Usually you saw the guy a couple of times a week at the office, and this… This was like nothing you’d ever experienced with him before. It would be easy to pass it off as his being distracted by the op, but part of you knew better than that. You’d told yourself the past couple of nights that maybe he had a new lead, some new informant that was taking up his time. When those ugly little thoughts had crept in, you’d slapped them down in a game of emotional whack-a-mole that had felt more tiring than usual. </p><p>-- </p><p>“Park the car here,” You ordered Alex. He glanced behind you guys before he pulled into a space.</p><p>“Why here?” He asked.</p><p>“We’re gonna walk the rest of the way. The roads up ahead are really shitty, I’d rather not risk hitting a pothole and fucking up an axel.”</p><p>“As wise as she is beautiful,” Alex sighed, and you rolled your eyes.</p><p>“As dramatic as he is stupid,” You retorted before getting out of the car.</p><p>-- </p><p>“She lives.”</p><p>You hadn’t expected Pope to be in the office when you turned up. Maybe that was ignorant of you, but he hadn’t been in all week, and he’d never texted you about your absence from it that day, so you’d assumed that he hadn’t seen your note.</p><p>“Hey,” You greeted, stepping around to your chair and trying to ignore his dry-as-napkins tone, “How long have you been here?”</p><p>“Couple’a hours.”</p><p>You nodded, opening your laptop and waiting for it to load up. You glanced over at Pope’s desk. He was looking something over - you just couldn’t see what it was. You wouldn’t be able to get a good look at it without getting up and leaning over, and that was just a bit too overt.</p><p>He wasn’t looking at you, either. This was beyond his being focused on his work - he was making it a point not to look at you. Usually if you so much as moved a paperclip on your desk, his eyes instinctively darted to the movement. Now, as you got yourself set up to do the other things you’d meant to get taken care of that day, before you agreed to check out the spot with Alex, Pope’s eyes remained focused on his work.</p><p>The two of you worked in silence for a little while. You finally asked,</p><p>“What are you working on?”</p><p>“Diego asked me to look over a bust recce.”</p><p>That had your eyes widening.</p><p>“Another one already? You gonna run this one by me first?”</p><p>Pope lifted his head from the file.</p><p>“You would’ve been briefed, too, if you were here.”</p><p>A pang of -- Shame? Guilt? Irritation? They were all jockeying for position but irritation won out -- spread through you, and you narrowed your eyes at him. </p><p>“I wrote on the note to text me if you needed me to come back,” You reminded him.</p><p>“Look, I’m already pretty sure I won’t be in on this--”</p><p>“Well let me look it over and you can be absolutely sure.”</p><p>Santiago’s eyes flickered with warning, a muscle in his jaw twitching. With anyone else, you’d take that as a signal to back down. But Santiago had never been anyone else.</p><p>“I’m perfectly capable of examining a recce myself and I’m not spoiling for a fight the way I was the last time Diego brought something to us,” He argued, voice low and measured.</p><p>“That may be so, but part of my job here is evaluating the clarity and viability of recommendations for plans, including, but not limited to, busts and heists. Remind me which one of us wrote that job description,” You matched his tone, careful to hold his gaze. This was hardly the first time you and Pope fought; one of you looking away was as good as tapping out.</p><p>“Let me do my job,” You added.</p><p>Pope shut the file, turning it around and sliding it across your desks.</p><p>“Be around to do it," He snapped.</p><p>You gaped at him as he got up, striding out of the office and slamming the door behind himself.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>What made for a successful bust?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you lovely people had a lovely week</p><p>Warnings: Cursing; angst; light fluff; canon-typical violence</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was a viable bust. You left Pope a note that said as much on a post-it on the file (which you put it in the safe, why did Pope never put </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the safe?). </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>It took you no time to get to it - you went through the file, almost hoping to find some flaw or issue with the recce to get back at Pope for what he’d said. You couldn’t get that look out of your head - the way he’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>glared</span>
  </em>
  <span> down at you as he’d stood up and left. You’d never gotten a look like that from him before, but you’d seen it directed at others. He could’ve called you back at any time, you’d told him that he could-- </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>You shook the thought off as you went home. You sent Pope one text: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Recce file in safe. </span>
  </em>
  <span>You got no response. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>You wanted to text more - you wanted to call him, you wanted to ask him what the hell was up, but this clearly wasn’t the time. You knew that pushing Pope with this would only make him more tight-lipped.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I borrow you?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>You hadn’t looked up when Alex had come in, and you hadn’t looked up when he’d leaned over you. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“For what?” You asked flatly. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Alex set a map down atop your keyboard, over your fingers. You didn’t look away from your monitor for a few moments. When you did, you saw a highlighted route to Jaramillo. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“...The drop site we staked out?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I got a tip from an informant, there’s been regular activity.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“What do you need me for?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Ego boosting and an extra gun.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I could help with the gun thing.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I’d settle for that.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Why aren’t you looping in Diego?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“We bring in too many people on this at the start, it could fall apart. I wanna hit it small, call them in when we need to arrest. We’ve got a limited window and I’d rather go in with someone that I know that I can trust.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>You looked back down at the map, biting your lip. </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>You hadn’t heard anything from Pope since the day before; you were certain that wasn’t going to change. </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>“I’ll grab my jacket.” </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>-- </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>What made for a successful bust? </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>Well, put simply: 50 kilos of cocaine, $1 million in cash, and 2 pissed off dealers - one of which could be directly tied to Hernandez. </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>Alex had called in Diego as soon as he’d been able to make a positive ID on one of the dealers, and you’d expected to see Pope sweep in with the rest of his team. It had been a little bit of a surprise when he wasn’t there, and you were certain that you’d have this to add to your list of grievances that the man apparently had with you now. You were positive that there would be no touchy cool-down period, no hugs because he was relieved that you were okay. </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>And right now, you kinda needed one. </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>The office was a charred mess - overturned file cabinets (which had mostly contained bills), smashed desks, broken computer monitors. </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>You’d arrived as the fire department was clearing out. Alex had offered to stay and wait with you, but the fire department had deemed it structurally safe. You’d told him that you could handle it - there wasn’t much left to sort. </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>“You may as well get those guys talking before Hernandez can get wind of this. Go with Diego, I’ll be fine,” You’d insisted. </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>“If you need somewhere to work for a few days…” Diego looked uncomfortable even as he offered it, but you smiled and thanked him before turning back to the wreckage. </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>What the hell happened? </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>You waited until they had cleared out before you moved over to the bookshelf, which had been cleared of all books, and lightly tugged at it, peering behind. The safe was still intact, untouched. You felt your shoulders sag with relief. You pulled your phone out for the first time that day and frowned, spotting nearly a dozen missed calls and texts from Pope.</span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>You tapped on his contact and hit the phone icon, raising it to your ear and listening as it rang. </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>“</span><em><span>Reina</span></em><span>?” </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>“Hey-- I’m at the office. It’s-- Santiago, it’s bad here--” </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>“I’m on my way.” </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>He didn’t even let you finish before he had hung up. You frowned down at your phone before you tucked it away again, looking around. Files. Files into your bag first, then you could worry about the rest. </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>--</span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>“</span><em><span>Reina!</span></em><span>” </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>You looked up from where you were crouching over a pile of half-torched papers and stood. </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>“Hey-- So this looks-- I know, but everything that was important was in,” You waved toward the safe, “So we’re covered off there--” </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>“</span><em><span>Reina.”</span></em> <span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>“The bills and stuff are literally fried, but I can contact the companies-- I’ve got a log of what was what on my laptop and just ask them to resend a hard copy--” </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>“Hey--” </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>“And-- I mean, we were insured, so-- But Diego said we can work out of his office until we sort something out? So that’s all worked out, you’ve got nothing to worry about.” </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>Santiago looked at once incredulous and furious. </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>“... You think I give a </span><em><span>fuck</span></em><span> about where we relocate to?”</span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>“...Yes?” </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>“I couldn’t get a hold of you!” Santiago yelled, “I had no idea where you were-- I went to your place and the door was wide open and it was </span><em><span>trashed</span></em><span>--” </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>A chill ran through you. Whoever had done this had hit your apartment, too? </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>“You weren’t answering your phone, you weren’t there, I--...” Pope stopped talking before he abruptly turned away from you, bracing himself against the countertop of the kitchenette. You lowered your head. You hadn’t checked your phone on the way to Jaramillo, or back. </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>You stepped closer tentatively, wrapping your arms around Pope’s middle and pressing your head between his shoulder blades. </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>“I’m sorry,” You murmured, “I didn’t mean to scare you-- And I didn’t… I didn’t know. About my place, I mean.” </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>Pope shifted under your touch and you leaned back as he turned. He clutched you to his chest, pressing his face into your hair. </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>“I thought--” </span><span><br/></span><span><br/></span><span>“Don’t,” You murmured, shaking your head, “Don’t say it.” </span></p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <span>“50 kilos? Why do you get to do all the fun shit?” Santiago mumbled. You smiled a little bit, running your thumb over his side. You’d been wrong - the two of you were having a moderately touchy cool-down period on Pope’s couch. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Pope had insisted that you spend the night with him. You’d already returned to your apartment with him and Diego, taken stock of what had been trashed, taken (not much, really -  one notebook which, you knew, contained nothing of substance, and, weirdly, your second favorite lamp). But this had only solidified your reasoning for not bringing work-related things home with you if you could help it. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“And a million bucks? Didn’t keep </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> of it for yourself? For </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Santiago teased. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Couldn’t. ‘Brano and Diego were there, they would’ve noticed.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“C’mon, wouldn’t have shocked anyone that some scumbag dealer had left a payment light.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Not if that payment was going to Hernandez. They wouldn’t dare.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Santiago hummed in agreement.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“... Much as what happened today worried me, you know, your place, and the office… It means we’re getting close and they’re getting scared,” He said. You nodded. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“... I’m sorry,” Santiago murmured. You glanced up. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I knew what I was signing up for when I took this job.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Not for that,” Santiago shook his head, smoothing back your hair, “For acting like such a shitstain the last couple’a days.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“...Will you tell me what’s been up with you?” You asked, sitting up a little to get a better look at him. Santiago turned away from you then, and you sighed, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Santi</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“It’s been a long day, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Reina</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Some other time, okay?” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Everything had its place in the apartment, and your staying there temporarily was upsetting that balance.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope everyone's had a good week 🥰</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You smelled like Santiago a lot these days. <br/><br/>You didn’t mind that, you liked how he smelled - it was a comforting scent to be wrapped up in. A sort of blend of clean cotton and bergamot and sandalwood. It was probably because you were living in his apartment, and sleeping in his bed, and using his body wash… And lately, sleeping in one of his shirts, ‘cause you hadn’t gotten all of your clothing from your apartment yet. He’d insisted that you stay with him until you got a lead on who had broken into your apartment and the office. <br/><br/>You didn’t think anything that had ever happened to you had ever engendered such a visceral reaction from him before. He was going with you to Diego’s office, checking in twice a day, making sure you got back to the apartment alright. <br/><br/>“You’re driving me crazy,” You finally mumbled. <br/><br/>“Hm?” <br/><br/>Pope hardly looked away from his phone. You had taken up most of his couch, leaning back against the arm and stretching your legs out. Pope had joined you a while back, and you’d tucked your toes under his thighs. You were on your laptop; Pope was on his phone doing god knows what. You wiggled your toes, trying to draw his attention. <br/><br/>“Santiago.” <br/><br/>He glanced over at you. <br/><br/>“You gonna be hanging over my shoulder for the rest of this case?” <br/><br/>“Whaddaya mean?” <br/><br/>“I <em> mean </em> I haven’t gone back to my apartment, <em> or </em> our office -- nothing’s been off, but you’ve been worrying over me like a mother hen. You know I can defend myself. Hell, I’ve got my gun on half the time when I’m <em> here</em>.” <br/><br/>“What about the other half?” <br/><br/>“I’m asleep.” <br/><br/>Pope grunted again, and you sat up a little, bending your knees and leaning forward over them. <br/><br/>“<em>Santi</em>. You can’t be my shadow, we’ll never get anything done.” <br/><br/>“Not true, I got three leads out of one of the dealers today.” <br/><br/>“That’s today. What about tomorrow? Next week?” <br/><br/>“I <em> know</em>, I just…” Santiago sighed, lowering his phone and turning to look at you. He weighed his words carefully. <br/><br/>“I feel better when I can <em> see </em> that you’re alright.” <br/><br/>“Well… You’ll be able to see that if you come back here in the evening. Besides, you think I don’t worry about you when I don’t see you for a few days?” You retorted, “Especially when you’re in a mood-- Don’t give me that look, Garcia, you know exactly what I mean.” <br/><br/>Santiago grumbled, rubbing his hand over your shin. <br/><br/>“... So what’d you get out of the drug dealer?” You asked, closing your laptop. <br/><br/>“Can we talk about that later?” <br/><br/>“What would you rather talk about?” <br/><br/>“What we’re having for dinner?” <br/><br/>You rolled your eyes. <br/><br/>“Wanna order out?” <br/><br/>“I’ll cook.” <br/><br/>“You can cook?” </p><p>Santiago laughed, giving your shin a pat, “You have so little faith in me,” He teased, getting up and heading into the kitchen. You watched him go, slouching down against the couch cushion. That wasn’t true at all. </p><p>--<br/><br/>“Who’s that?” Santiago asked through a mouthful. <br/><br/>“Alex,” You answered, setting the phone down on the table and pushing it across to him to read the text, “He wants to hit one of the stash houses that the dealer told you guys about earlier.” <br/><br/>The irritated little wrinkle in Santiago’s forehead did not escape your notice. You raised a brow as he scanned the text. <br/><br/>“You gonna go with him?” Santiago asked. You could hear the light tone he had affected. <br/><br/>“I figured you would,” You admitted, propping your chin up on your hand, “You know I’m better coordinating in the office, anyway.” <br/><br/>“You did alright last time.” <br/><br/>“A one-off. I think you and ‘Brano oughta handle this one without me.” <br/><br/>He grunted, pushing your phone back toward you. You took hold of it, tucking it into your back pocket. <br/><br/>“Think about it, obviously,” You added, “I don’t want you going in on a bust you’re not comfortable with.” <br/><br/>“Even if it’s viable?” <br/><br/>“Just ‘cause something’s viable doesn’t mean you’ve gotta jump on it, Pope. And what about that recce I looked over for you and Diego?” <br/><br/>“On hold, since we got those dealers.” <br/><br/>You leaned back in your seat, humming thoughtfully. <br/><br/>“... Could hit ‘em at the same time,” You said after a moment. <br/><br/>Pope’s eyes lifted from his plate to you, brows raised. <br/><br/>“...You’re not seriously suggesting what I think you are, <em> Reina</em>.” <br/><br/>“You said yourself that the hits to my apartment and the office mean that we’re getting close. They’re going to start moving on things a lot faster now that they know we’re on their tail -- and the intel we’re getting from the dealers may be old if we follow the usual timeline we take to move on something they tell us.” <br/><br/>“And if it’s bad intel?” <br/><br/>“I’m not saying cut out the research or the stakeouts or the groundwork, I’m not, but we need to act fast. I go with Diego, you go with ‘Brano.” <br/><br/>You stood, taking up your plate. <br/><br/>“...Frankie’s right, you are starting to think like me,” Santiago teased, watching you. <br/><br/>“Frankie is wrong and how dare the both of you. Now gimme,” You retorted, reaching out and taking Pope’s empty plate before heading into the kitchen. <br/><br/>“You’re not doing the dishes--” <br/><br/>“I am, too. You did the cooking-- and thank you, by the way,” You added, glancing over your shoulder as you heard Pope follow you into the kitchen. <br/><br/>“...Why do <em> I </em> have to go with Zambrano,” Pope whined as he sidled up beside you, watching as you began to wash the dishes, “Why can’t you go with me and Zambrano go with Diego?” <br/><br/>“Someone needs to be in the office to coordinate and you shouldn’t be out there by yourself. You’re liable to do something remarkably stupid.” </p><p>“There’s that faith in me again.” <br/><br/>“Well, call me selfish, but I like it when you come home in one piece.” </p><p>You set a dish in the dish drainer as you waited for his response. Santiago went quiet for a few moments and you glanced over to find him watching you.<br/><br/>“...What?” You asked, “Am I not washing the dishes correctly? I know you’re picky.” <br/><br/>You’d found that out over the course of the last few days, living with Santiago. The man was...Particular. Everything had its place in the apartment, and your staying there temporarily was upsetting that balance. Apparently you’d been folding shirts wrong all your life. With that knowledge, it only stood to reason that you were washing dishes wrong, too. But Santiago shook his head, lowering his eyes. <br/><br/>“We’ll talk to Diego about coordinating tomorrow.” <br/><br/>“Fine. I’ll start digging into the tip ‘Brano wants to hit.” <br/><br/>“Fine.” <br/><br/>“Good.” <br/><br/>“Great.” <br/><br/>You rolled your eyes a little bit, setting the other cleaned dish aside. <br/><br/>“You want a beer?” Santiago asked, pushing off of the counter. <br/><br/>“Sure. You gonna show me how to throw it out later, too?” You teased. Santiago chuckled. <br/><br/>“If you ask me nicely, I might.” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>While most of Santiago’s apartment had few personal touches, the bedroom was different. At least, it was to you. Maybe it could’ve passed as anyone else’s bedroom to other people, but to you, it was utterly Santi.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope everyone is well 🥰</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I’m sorry to interrupt, but… This was </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> idea?” Alex raised a brow, looking from Santiago to you. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Santiago had called Alex in to discuss the plan that the two of you had pulled together to monitor and hit both busts at the same time. You raised a brow. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Problem, Zambrano?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Problem</span>
  </em>
  <span> isn’t quite the word I’d use, this just… It doesn’t seem your style, Q. I mean you’re more the ‘take-your-time-and-go-over-lab-reports’ type and not the ‘rush-in-and-punch-a-hitman’ type.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>You saw Santiago shift in his seat out of the corner of your eye, heard the irritated sigh that he made no effort to hide. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Well we’re still doing our research, we’re just doing it double,” You countered, “Seems exactly my style, actually.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Diego and his team will focus on the bust recce that he brought me, keep an eye out for any changes in the big players before we hit it. You and I will work the intel we got out of the dealers from the Jaramillo bust,” Santiago told Alex, “That sound alright to you?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“And Q?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Q gets to play connect the dots,” You answered, giving Alex a bright smile.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Great. We’re gonna come into the office and find you drinking directly out of the coffee pot and looking like that meme from It’s Always Sunny,” Alex sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face. <br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>-- <br/><br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...You’re still doing it,” You said. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I’m not,” Was Santiago’s clipped reply. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>You glanced away from the food you had on the stove, giving him a knowing look. He raised a challenging brow at you, and when neither of you spoke, took a sip of his beer. You turned back to the food, pushing the vegetables around the pan to make none of them had caught in your distraction. There were a few moments where the only sounds in the kitchen was the sizzling of dinner. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>And then Santiago’s muttering was back. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Santiago!” You pointed over your shoulder at him with the spatula, “Either tell me what’s up or I swear to </span>
  <em>
    <span>god</span>
  </em>
  <span> I will use this.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“What are you gonna do to me with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>spatula</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“You do not want to know, Garcia.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I actually really do.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Why are you muttering?” You whined. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Santiago didn’t answer for a few seconds, and when he finally did, it was a grumble of, “Just, the way he… Talks about you.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Who? ‘Brano?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Mm.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“How exactly does he talk about me?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Like he knows you.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“...Okay, Santiago, I don’t know if you recall, but Alex and I are </span>
  <em>
    <span>acutely</span>
  </em>
  <span> acquainted.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“No, see, fucking is one thing,” And hell, he just said it so casually, like he was talking about the weather, or suggesting that you chip in to buy Frankie a new hat, “But he doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> you know you.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“What...Does that even-- Mean-- Santi, Alex and I do </span>
  <em>
    <span>talk</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I mean, not nearly as much as I do to you or Frankie, but we talked way before we fucked.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Surface-level shit.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Casual still. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“What do you consider deep? Whatever you and your informants chat about?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>You were kidding. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>… You were </span>
  <em>
    <span>mostly</span>
  </em>
  <span> kidding, but when Santigo didn’t take the bait and snip back at you, you turned to look at him again. He was staring down into his beer bottle like the secret of the universe is at the bottom but, for the life of him, he couldn’t swallow another drop. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“That’s work,” He finally said. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“... Yeah, Santi. I know,” You turned back to the stove, unsure of how flat or bitter that had come out of you, but unable to change it now. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“My </span>
  <em>
    <span>point</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” He added, tone on the soft side of harsh, “Is that Zambrano talks about you like he’s… Been around for more than a couple of months. And saying that you just sit around and compare reports when you helped him on that bust? That’s bullshit.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>How was it possible that Santiago was more offended by that than you were? You’d heard him muttering since the two of you had gotten home -- not </span>
  <em>
    <span>home</span>
  </em>
  <span>, just, back to Santiago’s apartment, where you were temporarily staying -- and you’d figured it was that crack that ‘Brano had made about punching a hitman. Especially since it wasn’t the first time that Alex had brought it up since it happened. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“He was just…” You shook your head as you reached out, turning down the heat under the veggies before you took a step back, “He was kidding.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“No he wasn’t.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I wouldn’t have gone on that bust if he hadn’t asked me to, Santi,” You pointed out, “So he’s not completely wrong. And I’ll be in the office for most of these ops, too. Besides, you do tend to leap into things without looking,” You added before leaning over to check the food in the oven. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Not all things,” Santiago was muttering again, and you rolled your eyes a little as you straightened up. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Many of them.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>You turned to face him and took the beer out of his hand, taking a pull from it. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Don’t let him get to you,” You said, passing the bottle back to him. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“He doesn’t get to me.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Bullshit. You don’t mutter for nothing, Garcia.” <br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>-- </span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <span>Since you made dinner, Santiago did the dishes that night. The two of you wound up on the couch after you ate - you with a book, him with his phone. Since you’d started staying with him, the two of you wound up on the couch most nights. Where you tended to stay up later, though, Santiago headed to bed first. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Callin’ it?” You asked, feeling Santiago stretch beside you. He hummed the affirmative before he leaned over, pressing a kiss to your temple. You couldn’t help the fluttering feeling your stomach, or the small smile that grew on your lips.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Don’t stay up too late. I hear your boss is a hard ass,” he teased as he stood. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“He is, but I think he’s got a soft spot for me.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Santiago snorted, reaching out and tweaking your nose. <br/><br/>“Goodnight, <em>Reina</em>.” <br/><br/>“Night, Santi.” <br/><br/>You glanced after him before shifting in your seat a little bit, stretching out into the warmth he’d left behind. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>--</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>You found yourself falling asleep on the couch a couple of hours later and you pulled yourself up, leaving your book behind. You went to the bathroom first, washing your face and brushing your teeth before heading into the bedroom. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>You’d gotten exceptionally good at getting ready for bed in the dark. You tended to leave your pajamas out for yourself on your side of the bed so that you wouldn’t have to go rummaging around in your drawer (that is to say, the drawer Santiago was lending you while you stayed there temporarily) and risk waking Santiago up. That had happened a couple of times when you’d started staying there - when the two of you were still getting used to having one another around all of the time, and he was still shadowing your every move. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>You changed quietly, dropping the day’s clothes into your duffle bag (you’d been using it as a hamper for the time being) and pulling on your pajama shirt and shorts. You got into bed beside Santiago, settling down on your side, facing away from him. You heard him shift behind you and you held very still for a few moments. When he settled down, you glanced behind you. He seemed to still be asleep. You smiled a little before resting your head on the pillow and closing your eyes. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>--</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>You woke up alone. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> woke up alone. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Santiago went to bed early and rose early. Unless there was an absolute emergency, you preferred to take your time getting out of bed. You sighed, looking at his empty side of the bed before peering around the bedroom in the early morning light. While most of Santiago’s apartment had few personal touches, the bedroom was different. At least, it was to you. Maybe it could’ve passed as anyone else’s bedroom to other people, but to you, it was utterly Santi. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>His sheets were navy blue, his favorite color (even if he’d sworn up and down to you that he was a grown man and not a kindergartner and didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> a favorite color - you knew better); he had a small stack of books on his bedside table - you’d never seen him reading any of them, but at least one got swapped out a week, so you figured that he read before he went to bed, while you were still in the living room; he kept a few things on his dresser - deodorant, and a couple of small boxes (you’d never gone through them, but you’d always been so, so curious) and one picture frame. It was a picture of him and his mom - he was a little boy at the time, couldn’t be any older than six. It had been taken in Colombia, at his grandmother’s home there. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“We came down to visit for Christmas when I was younger,” He’d told you when he caught you looking at it (you’d tried to pass it off as looking for something in your temporary drawer, but he knew you better), “Mom would save up all year… That trip was the last time we were able to visit for a while.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“You have her eyes,” You’d told him. He hadn’t said anything after that, just given your hip a squeeze and left the room. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>You lay in bed for a few more minutes, eyeing the picture. When you did finally push yourself to sit up, you listened closely for a few moments. You could hear… Birds singing, kids playing outside… But nothing in the apartment. Santiago had left already. You sighed, pushing yourself out of bed. That was fine - as long as he’d left you some coffee. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>You got up and made the bed. It wasn’t something that you did every day at your own apartment, but it was one of those things that you’d discovered Santiago was fussy about. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>-- </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>You stepped into the kitchen to find a half-full pot of coffee, with your mug (your temporary mug, the mug you were commandeering while you were staying at Santiago’s apartment) sitting next to the machine. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>So much for your boss being a hard ass. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Pope and Alex had pulled a couple of stakeouts together in that time, and when neither had come back with black eyes or missing teeth -- in fact, when both had come back and neither had mysteriously ‘disappeared’, you’d taken it as a sign that things were improving. </p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy New Year! 🥳</p><p>Warnings: Cursing; canon-typical violence (not terribly descriptive); flirting; pining</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I’ve got eyes on ya,” You said, watching Alex through the monitor. <br/><br/>“Well, now I feel self-conscious. I knew I should’ve worn tighter jeans today,” Alex’s voice was quiet as it crackled through your earpiece. <br/><br/>“Not a problem from my point of view,” Was Pope’s retort; he was only a few feet from Alex’s position. You rolled your eyes. The two of them had continued to be somewhat combative over the last couple of weeks, but it had defrosted slightly and taken a turn for the teasing. At least, Pope had stopped openly griping to you about him. He and Alex had pulled a couple of stakeouts together in that time, and when neither had come back with black eyes or missing teeth -- in fact, when both had come back and neither had mysteriously ‘disappeared’, you’d taken it as a sign that things were improving. </p><p>“Glad it hear it, Garcia. You know, I picked these with you in mind?” Alex answered, and you huffed a laugh, unable to help it. <br/><br/>“You know, you two were bad enough apart, you’re insufferable on the same channel,” You teased. <br/><br/>“Oh, ouch--” <br/><br/>“He and I are not as bad--” <br/><br/>“How dare you, <em> Reina</em>--”  <br/><br/>“If anything I make it better--” <br/><br/>Santiago and Alex hurried to correct you over one another and you groaned, “Alright, alright, I take it back, fuckssake! Eyes up, you’ve got a car approaching.” <br/><br/>It had been a tip from one of Santiago’s <em>informants</em> that had gotten you there. When he’d told you that he had a new informant <em> , </em> you hadn’t gone out of your way to ask the questions that you usually would’ve asked. When Isabella had first come up, before she’d disappeared with your best (and only) lead at the time, you’d made fun of him a little, asked if she was hot, if he bothered to get dressed up for her, if they went to his place or hers. <br/><br/>This time you’d just taken the information in the same way you did when the guy handed you a tequila shot - with one solid nod and a wince once he’d turned his head. Whatever feelings you had toward the methods Pope sometimes employed, now was not the time to take issue with them. The man was letting you stay in his apartment - sleep in his <em>bed </em> for goddsake. Besides that, the two of you had never been closer. It was beyond being around him so constantly. You felt like you understood Pope on an entirely different level now. <br/><br/>“What’ve we got?” You asked as you watched the car pull to a stop on the live feed. <br/><br/>“I am seeing… Three people in the car…No one’s making a move to get out,” Alex relayed. <br/><br/>“Just give it a minute,” Pope grumbled. Neither you nor Alex replied, just waited for a few tense seconds. And then the passenger side front door opened. <br/><br/>“Alright, hang on, hang on,” Pope was cautioning, even as you were working to enhance your stream. You froze, fingers over the keyboard as the picture became clear. <br/><br/>“Guys,” You mumbled, “Is that-- Are you seeing--” <br/><br/>“Yes,” Alex breathed, even as Pope hissed, “<em>Fuck</em>.” <br/><br/>That was Camilo Hernandez. <br/><br/>You’d been looking for the man for <em> months.</em> He was distinct, even on a grainy camera feed. <br/><br/>“Guys,” You warned quietly, “We stick to the original plan. I know that this changes things, but it doesn’t change how many people we have at our disposal. I’m calling for backup now,” You added, fingers moving swiftly over the keys again, “But if they can’t get there in time--” <br/><br/>“Understood,” Alex grumbled. <br/><br/>Pope didn’t even answer you. You couldn’t imagine what was going through his head - and fuck, you wanted to ask, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. He needed to be focused on what was right in front of him. You were resolved to only speak up again if it was absolutely necessary - reinforcements were on their way, or another car pulled up. <br/><br/>You watched as the other two people got out of the car - one of them being Pope’s informant. <br/><br/>She was cute. <br/><br/>You whacked the thought back down as suddenly as it appeared. There was no time for that, and the fact, while true, was not a helpful one. <br/><br/>The three of them started toward a house not too far from where they’d parked. <br/><br/>“I’m moving into position,” Alex warned through the comm. <br/><br/>“Right behind you. How are we doing on reinforcements?” Pope asked. You glanced at the messages that had come through. <br/><br/>“Eight minutes out.” <br/><br/>“You can’t speed them up?” Pope growled. <br/><br/>“If I could, I would,” You gritted out, leaning against the desk and watching as the two crept into position around the car. You held your breath as Alex slid under the car to place a tracking device. <br/><br/>“Get out of there, ‘Brano, they’re coming back out,” Pope hissed. <br/><br/>“I’m not finished--” <br/><br/>“Alex, move--” You ordered as quickly as you could. <br/><br/>But it wasn’t quickly enough. When you were on that side of the screen, it was <em> never </em> quickly enough. The feed was hazy and sluggish, the actions of the people unclear and moments behind what you were hearing. You balled your hands into fists as you heard gunfire, yelling, the squealing of car tires. You took in a shuddering breath as quiet fell on the other end. <br/><br/>“Zambrano?” You finally dared to speak, “Garcia? Someone talk to me.” <br/><br/>“‘Brano’s been hit.” <br/><br/>--</p><p>The way that Santiago had delivered the news was flat, but you knew him better; his voice was tight with the fact, with worry. When you’d finally been able to leave, to meet the two at the hospital, you found Alex in one piece with a woozy ‘just-given-painkillers’ smile and his arm in a sling. <br/><br/>The bullet hadn’t hit anything vital - it had passed through his abdomen; the stitches could come out in a week or two. <br/><br/>Pope looked like he could’ve eaten the world twice over - his brow was drown low, in frustration or upset, you couldn’t tell; his jaw was clenched as if he was the one that had been shot. <br/><br/>“I’ll get him home,” You told your boss quietly (because right now, that was what the man was to you - your boss; this was still work). He gave a short nod and hardly met your eye as he left the hospital room. You sighed, turning back to Alex and shaking your head. <br/><br/>“It’s always something with you, isn’t it, ‘Brano.” <br/><br/>“Gotta keep it interesting, Q,” He retorted, “Now help me stand up, the room feels like one of those spinny horse up-and-down rides.” <br/><br/>“Carousel, ‘Brano,” You smiled in spite of yourself, in spite of the situation as you gave him your arm to steady himself, “A carousel.” </p><p>-- <br/><br/>You didn’t make it back to <strike>your</strike> Pope’s apartment until very early the next morning - it was nearly 5:30; the sun had yet to rise. You’d gotten Alex to his apartment and stayed to get him settled. You’d made sure he’d had something to eat, helped him get changed into more comfortable clothing. You’d tucked him in, too, after he’d sworn up and down to call you when he woke up. You only left to check in at the office. <br/><br/>The tracker was working. The damn thing that Alex had crawled under the car to place and nearly died working on was working. <br/><br/>On the other side of town, while you, Pope, and ‘Brano had been in that situation, Diego’s team had hit a stash house and been able to seize a fair amount of product, cash, and several workers. <br/><br/>The night had viable leads, tangible results, a functioning tracker to show for it.</p><p>--<br/><br/>You moved around Pope’s apartment gingerly. You showered first, trying to rid yourself of the night's grime, taking twice as long, as if you could scrub off the feeling of helplessness that had lingered with you. You hadn’t heard from Pope all evening. You hadn’t reached out; you’d figured he’d have his own ends to wrap up, his own questions to ask of his <em> informant</em>, and you didn’t want to interrupt that...Situation. <br/><br/>You stepped into Santiago’s room, peering around. You’d laid your pajamas out for yourself the day before, and they were still there, undisturbed on your side of the bed. You crept closer, towel wrapped tightly around yourself as you eyed where Santiago lay, back to you. You reached out, tugging your sleep shorts on. You eyed the tank top you normally slept in next. You were still a little damp from the shower, and you knew that you’d be chilly. You stepped over to his dresser, opening one of his drawers rather than yours and pulling out one of his few long-sleeve shirts. He wouldn't mind, right? They didn't get much use, anyway.</p><p>You dropped your towel and tugged it on, sighing at the immediate feeling of warmth and comfort that washed over you. You shut the dresser drawer gingerly before scooping the towel off of the floor and creeping back out of the room. <br/><br/>Coffee. You’d make coffee, head back into the office to see how the tracker was doing and then get some food to bring over to Alex’s. That was the best course of action. <br/><br/>You took yours and Pope’s mugs out of the dish drainer, pouring freshly brewed coffee into your mug. As you waited for it to cool a bit, you found yourself bracing yourself against the counter and closing your eyes. You were tired. It had been a long night. You hadn’t taken a moment to rest at Alex’s, more concerned with getting him situated so that you could follow up with the rest of the op. Of course, it was a relief that everything was running smoothly, but-- <br/><br/>You glanced back as you heard a creak in the floorboard, your hand instinctively flying to your thigh, where you typically had your gun strapped. Of course you’d just showered - there was no gun to be found. <br/><br/>“It’s just me,” Santiago’s voice was somehow soothing even when it was rough as sandpaper from sleep. You sighed quietly, nodding and straightening up to pour coffee into his mug as well. <br/><br/>“That’s a relief. I was about to reach for the spatula.” <br/><br/>You smiled as he chuckled and crowded up behind you. He curled his arms around you, his face pressing into your neck. <br/><br/>“Your nose is cold,” You grumbled. <br/><br/>“Give it a minute,” Was his muffled reply. You smiled.</p><p>“How are you feeling? Bout last night, I mean,” You clarified. Santiago took a moment to answer. And when he finally did, he mumbled, “We almost got him.” <br/><br/>“I know. You’re <em> gonna </em> get him.” <br/><br/>“ <em> We’re </em> gonna get him. The dual raids were your idea.” <br/><br/>“Yeah, yeah. But you guys did all of the heavy lifting.” <br/><br/>You glanced down, absently trailing a finger over one of Santiago’s arms where it was wrapped around you. <br/><br/>“Your coffee’s getting cold.” <br/><br/>“I can handle lukewarm coffee, <em> Reina.</em>” <br/><br/>“...You’re cuddly first thing in the morning.” <br/><br/>“Mm.” <br/><br/>“Are you always this cuddly first thing?” <br/><br/>“Mm.” <br/><br/>You rolled your eyes as Santiago lifted his head, nudging his nose against the hinge of your jaw before he stepped away, leaning against the counter. That’s when you realized how… Well, how <em> shirtless </em> he was. <br/><br/>You and Santiago always slept with your backs to one another, and you hadn’t exactly gone over to get a good look at him when you’d gone in to get dressed. Did he always sleep shirtless? You turned away as quickly as you had looked, not wanting to be caught out. You’d certainly gotten an eyeful. Whoever this informant was, she must’ve been less territorial than Isabella was. Santiago was hickey-free -- from what you could see, anyway. <br/><br/>“How’s Zambrano?” Santiago asked after a few sips of coffee. <br/><br/>“In one piece. He’s hopped up on pain meds and has eight stitches on his left side. He’ll be fine. He’s had worse,” You answered, warming your hands around your mug. You felt a tug on the hem of your shirt and glanced down to see Pope fiddling with it. Your eyes trailed up his arm to his face, giving him a bashful smile. <br/><br/>“Uh… Ha, yeah, sorry. I took a shower and I was chilly so I kinda… Borrowed it.” <br/><br/>You raised a brow as Pope tugged at the hem again. <br/><br/>“You want it back?” You teased. <br/><br/>“Would you hand it over right now if I asked?” <br/><br/>Santiago’s eyes were as dark and as warm as the coffee he was sipping. You huffed out a shaky laugh, feeling yourself flush as you raised your own mug to your lips. He always did like to fuck with you; you took his flirting with a grain of salt. <br/><br/>“I’m gonna head out soon, check on ‘Brano and see how things are at the office. Also, considering how picky you are, you’d probably just tell me I was taking it off wrong,” You added as you headed out of the kitchen. You were well into the hall when you choked on your coffee, hearing Santiago call after you, “I could show you how it’s done.” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You’d spent the last few days checking all of the cameras we had available for Hernandez, but you hadn’t been able to get another fix on the man.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: Cursing; angst... And well.... Y’all will see</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The tracker stopped giving off a signal somewhere around El Eden, outside Jericó. <br/><br/>There was no way for you to know if it had been knocked loose, or if it had been found, but it gave you a direction. It also put Hernandez in range of one of the last in-person sightings of Lorea, down by Las Minas. <br/><br/>“So I’ll drive down--” <br/><br/>“I don’t know if you should be driving anywhere. You haven’t even gotten your stitches out yet,” You gave the phone a withering look, willing Alex to feel the power of the stare from the other end. You and Pope were at the office, looking down at a readout of all of the places the tracker had given off a signal before cutting. You’d spent the last few days checking all of the cameras we had available for Hernandez, but you hadn’t been able to get another fix on the man. Pope told you that he hadn’t gotten anything else about Hernandeze’s whereabouts from his informant, either, and that she hadn’t even expected him to be in the car that night. <br/><br/>The two of you had taken to calling Alex when we were in the office and having him on speakerphone when we were talking over status updates that day. You tended to go by his apartment at least once a day to check on him, make sure he was eating properly and helping out if he needed it. Pope had gone with you a couple of times, and they had been… Amiable. <br/><br/>“Fine, you drive,” Alex retorted. You shook your head. <br/><br/>“I’m still looking through these feeds. I get that we <em> may </em> get something closer to where the tracker cut, but-- I don’t want <em> anyone </em> going anywhere until we have something more firm. If the tech just shat the bed, or they found it and broke it, going down to El Eden isn’t going to solve anything, it’s just going to waste time.” </p><p>“Pope, your informant doesn’t have anything?” <br/><br/>“She didn’t the last time I spoke to her,” Pope turned his head toward the phone to answer, his eyes still set firmly on the map, “But I have a check-in with her in a couple of hours.” <br/><br/>A check-in. You were pointedly not thinking about what that might entail. <br/><br/>“Look, soon as we get something that looks like Hernandez--” <br/><br/>“What if we <em> don’t </em> ?” Alex asked. You went quiet. It was a fair question. The man had slipped up once; he’d be raising his guard, making sure nothing like that happened again. You and Pope had both been twice as cautious that week, double- and triple-checking that the door was locked before we went to bed. <br/><br/>“We will,” Pope answered. You turned to look at him, taking in the set of his brow, the way his lips were pulling down. He meant, ‘ <em> We have to’ </em>.</p><p>--</p><p>You hadn’t had a quiet night alone without Pope since the office had been broken into. It was… Odd. Not eerie or anything, but just like something was missing. You’d briefly, stupidly, wondered if Pope felt like this when you’d stayed with Alex at the hospital. It was <em> Pope’s </em> apartment, he was used to being there alone. <br/><br/>Well maybe not <em> alone </em> , but at least without you there-- <br/><br/>You huffed, closing the fridge door for what had to be the fifth time that evening. Pope hadn’t told you when he’d be <strike> home </strike> back when he’d left to meet with his informant. <br/><br/>“You gonna tell me what her name is, or should I call her Isabella 2.0?” You’d tried to tease. He’d cast you a dour look as he’d tugged jacket. <br/><br/>“What’s it matter what her name is?” He’d asked, and the words had left him with such tired irritation that you immediately felt stupid for saying anything. <br/><br/>“No, it… It doesn’t,” You’d mumbled. He’d just grunted, said he’d let you and ‘Brano know if he got anything, and left.</p><p>Maybe he hadn’t sounded that irritated? Maybe you’d just been thinking about it too long. Being in the apartment alone gave you a lot of time and silence in which to overthink things. You’d texted Frankie and the guys to see how they were doing, but Benny had a fight that night, so you wouldn’t be able to distract yourself with them for at least another few hours, and by then, Santiago would be home. <br/><br/>Hopefully. Hopefully Santiago would be home. <br/><br/><b> <em>Back</em> </b> . Hopefully Santiago would be <b> <em>back</em> </b>. </p><p>-- </p><p><em> Hernandez is hunkered down in Las Minas. </em> <br/><br/>You’d jumped at the sound of your phone, and now you were just staring at the text that had come through from Santiago. <br/><br/><em> Lorea? </em> Was Alex’s answering text. <br/><br/><em> Unclear </em>, Pope’s response came through in seconds.</p><p>Las Minas, you could work with that. First thing in the morning, you’d go in and start working through the camera feeds that you could access from Diego’s office. You opened your separate texts with Santiago. <br/><br/><em> Coming back soon? </em></p><p>You watched the screen for a few moments before setting the phone aside. A few more minutes, nothing. He’d answered Alex so quickly. You looked around the apartment, stomach churning. <br/><br/>Maybe you wouldn’t wait until morning to head into the office and start combing through those camera feeds. </p><p>-- </p><p>You left him a post-it, of course. </p><p>--</p><p>“So I’ve got five possible targets, there are like three that I’m ready to rule out, but I wanted to get your read on them before I dropped them completely,” You said, not even bothering with a <em> ‘hello’ </em> , instead pointing to a map on the wall with printed-out imagery from the cameras you’d been able to access pinned to it, “The red tacks are the ones I think are the most likely, blue are the ones I wanna ditch.” <br/><br/>“Have you been here all night?” Pope didn’t bother with a ‘<em>hello</em>’, either.<br/><br/>“Where else would I be?” You returned your hand to the keyboard, eyes still on the monitor. <br/><br/>“I don’t know, with Zambrano?” He said it like it was obvious, like you were over there all the time, beyond helping the guy since he was wounded. <br/><br/>“Just stopped by after work for a bit.” <br/><br/>“And then?” <br/><br/>“Would you look at the map, please?” You didn’t mean for it to come out as snappy as it had, but you were… Tired, and annoyed - more annoyed than tired. Santiago had never answered your text, now had he texted you when he got in, which you’d asked him to do on the post-it. To top it all off, he was asking if <em> you </em> had been at the office all night. So, presumably, he <em> hadn’t </em> gotten in, had spent the night <em> elsewhere </em> , and… And you’d gotten a tip out of it. Anything else that happened didn’t matter, and you didn’t <em> care </em> anyway, and this game of emotional whack-a-mole was really starting to take it out of you. </p><p>You didn’t dare look at Pope, didn’t want to know whether he was looking at you or the map in the stilted silence that followed. But after a few moments, you heard his footsteps trail away from your desk, over to the wall, and you let yourself glance over your shoulder. Same jacket as yesterday - but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. You lowered your head back to your work, shaking your head a little. What he was wearing, what he did last night or <em> didn’t do </em> , none of that mattered, none of it-- <br/><br/>“Ditch the blue.” <br/><br/>Pope’s voice cut through your thoughts, and you grabbed the pen you’d set aside hours ago, crossing them off of the list that you’d compiled. <br/><br/>“Too conspicuous?” You asked. <br/><br/>“Yep.” <br/><br/>You tossed the pen back onto the desk and glanced over at Pope, watching him look at the two remaining targets. They weren’t terribly far from one another, but they couldn’t be monitored by one person. <br/><br/>“I’ll get Zambrano, drive down, hit them today,” Pope said, pulling his jacket sleeve back and glancing back down at his wrist, “He can <em> drive </em> . We won’t engage if we see anything, it’ll be strictly recon,” He added, glancing back at you. <br/><br/>You turned back to your computer, nodding and wordless. You didn’t like the idea, but you knew that the tip that Pope had gotten would need to be moved on quickly. <br/><br/>“You should go back to the apartment, get some rest,” Pope added, heading for the door of your small office space. <br/><br/>“I’ve got some stuff to wrap up here,” You shook your head. <br/><br/>“ <em> Reina. </em> ” <br/><br/>You looked up at Pope then, raising a brow and waiting for him to speak. He hesitated before he sighed, shaking his head. <br/><br/>“I’ll grab walkie-talkies, Zambrano and I will radio when we’re in position.” <br/><br/>“Fine,” You nodded, and were on your way to adding, “Be careful,” When you found yourself speaking to the door. </p><p>-- </p><p>“How was the fight?” You asked, leaning back from your monitor and stretching your back over your chair as you spoke into your chair. <br/><br/>“What fight?” Alex’s voice crackled through your headset. <br/><br/>“ <em> Mic </em> ,” Pope’s sighed over Alex’s question. <br/><br/>“Shit, hang on, ‘Fish-- Sorry, guys,” You apologized before tapping the mute button on your headset - the controls were so damn sensitive. You’d already accidentally knocked them half a dozen times. You raised your phone back to the ear you’d pushed your headset back from. <br/><br/>“Sorry, Fish.” <br/><br/>“Late night?” Frankie chuckled. <br/><br/>“... So how was the fight?” You repeated, not in the mood to touch that just yet. <br/><br/>“It was great. Benny kicked the guy’s ass.” <br/><br/>“Atta boy,” You grinned, pushing yourself out of your seat, “How’ve you been?” <br/><br/>You listened to Frankie catch you up on what you’d missed the last couple of weeks, checking your phone screen now and again for any texts from Santiago or Alex, just in case. <br/><br/>“You okay, Q?” <br/><br/>“Fine, why?” <br/><br/>“You sound a little...Dead.” <br/><br/>“Forgot what a sweet-talker you were, <em> chulo </em> .” <br/><br/>“You know I don’t mean it like that--” <br/><br/>“I’m teasing, Frankie,” You smiled a little, grabbing your mug and walking over to where you’d set up the coffee maker in the back office that Diego had allotted you and Pope, “I’m fine, just… Yeah, late night. Work, you know.” <br/><br/>You hesitated as you set your mug down, thinking. <br/><br/>“...Frank?” <br/><br/>“Yeah?” <br/><br/>“Let’s say… Hypothetically… That there was a, like… Snowball’s chance in hell that there was some truth to all the teasing you’ve done about me and Pope.” <br/><br/>“How big a snowball?” <br/><br/>“You know that boulder that chases Indiana Jones in Raiders of the Lost Ark?” <br/><br/>“Oh, no!” Frankie laughed, and you couldn’t help but smile a little bit at the sound of it -- it was so light, and after the mental hell you’d been putting yourself through, it was nice to hear <em> someone </em> laughing about it. <br/><br/>“What’s going on?” He asked. You looked down at the coffee pot, trying to cobble your thoughts together. <br/><br/>“It’s just-- Ugh, hang on,” You reached up, adjusting your headset as it began to slip, your hand brushing the controls as you did, “It’s just that-- I don’t know if it’s because I’m staying with the guy, or-- Or <em> what </em> , but I can’t get him out of my head. It’s <em> bad </em> , Frankie. And I mean, it’s not new, either, I’ve had feelings for Santiago since… Since before I took this job. I mean they weren’t always serious, not like they are now, but there’s always been something <em> there </em> for me--” Now that you were admitting it, you couldn’t get the words to stop; they were spilling out like unorganized tupperware from a hastily shut cupboard, “But fuck, it’s just been so much-- <em> Worse </em> isn’t the word, I mean, noticeable, maybe. Fuck, I’ve been living with the guy, we sleep in the same bed, and he’s cuddly, and I like it way too much. I spent half the night looking for new apartments because I just… I can’t do it anymore. If I don’t get out of there, I think I’m gonna fall in lo--” <br/><br/>“Hey Q?” Alex’s voice crackled in through your earpiece. <br/><br/>“Hang on ‘Fish--” You sighed, raising your hand to your headset. But before you could even touch it-- <br/><br/>“Your mic is on,” Santiago’s voice was quiet, almost regretful. <br/><br/>Your heart slammed into your rib cage with the force of a freight train. You reached up with a shaking hand, tapping the mic button on your headset again to mute it. <br/><br/>“...Francisco, I’m going to need to call you back.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Y'all order uhhhhhhhhh *checks receipt* A Cliffhanger?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You did need to talk to Santiago. But holy fuck, how could you even start that conversation?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope everyone’s having a good week! 💜</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You could hear Frankie trying very hard not to laugh. You appreciated the attempt, of course, and you told him to just put himself on mute until he could talk without laughing.<br/><br/>You were on mute for three minutes.<br/><br/>When Frankie finally took you off of mute, you heard him sigh before he cleared his throat.<br/><br/>“Okay. Okay-- So, I mean, don’t panic.”<br/><br/>“Don’t panic?” You repeated, blinking dumbly, even though Frankie couldn’t see you, “Don’t-- Don’t panic. The guy whose apartment I stay at-- Whose fucking <em>bed</em> I sleep in just heard that I have had feelings for him for <em>years</em> and you’re telling me not to panic?”<br/><br/>“The two of you just need to talk-- in person, not over the headset again.”<br/><br/>“What I <em>need</em> to do is leave the <em>country</em>.”<br/><br/>“Q, come on.”<br/><br/>“Actually, if I leave the office now, I can get back to the apartment, grab my passport--”<br/><br/>“<em>Q</em>.”<br/><br/>You sighed, lowering yourself into your office chair and leaning back against it tiredly.<br/><br/>“I know,” You mumbled.<br/><br/>“Look, I know Pope can be… A bit much? But he’s not gonna hold this against you or make this weird...On purpose.”<br/><br/>It was going to be weird anyway.<br/><br/>“You didn’t hear him, Frank,” You pinched the bridge of your nose, closing your eyes, “The way he he said ‘your mic is on’ was like he was telling me someone was fuckin’ dead. It’s like I just drove a stake through our friendship’s heart.”<br/><br/>“That’s a little dramatic.”<br/><br/>“I’ve a license to be dramatic, I just shot my mouth in the foot.”<br/><br/>“Okay, <em>that</em> one made no sense.”<br/><br/>--</p><p>“Hi!”<br/><br/>“....Hi there,” Alex frowned, looking around you in the hallway, “What are you doing here?”<br/><br/>“Just checking in, like I’ve been-- Been doing, you wanna order in? I know a few places around here--”<br/><br/>“Q--”<br/><br/>“Or we could um-- There’s gotta be something on Netflix.”<br/><br/>“Okay--”<br/><br/>“And if you move I could come inside.”<br/><br/>“Go home.”<br/><br/>“Hm?”<br/><br/>“Go home.”<br/><br/>“I haven’t been back to my apartment in a while.”<br/><br/>“You know what I mean.”<br/><br/>You hesitated, and Alex sighed.<br/><br/>“Don’t overthink it,” He said softly, “Garcia doesn’t seem like he’s gonna tease you about it.”<br/><br/>“...So I can’t sleep here for the night?”<br/><br/>“If you <em> really </em> need to, yeah, but I don’t think you should start here.”<br/><br/>“Why are you doing the tough-love thing?” You pouted.<br/><br/>“...Because I saw the guy’s face when we got back to the office to return the radios and you weren’t there,” Alex said, “So… If this all blows up, my door is open, but until it does…” He waved exaggeratedly and slowly, shutting the door.<br/><br/>--<br/><br/>As irritated as you were, Frankie and Alex were both sort of right. You did need to talk to Santiago. But holy fuck, how could you even start that conversation?<br/><br/><em> Hi Santi, what do you want for dinner, by the way, so sorry about the accidental confession of my feelings-- Yeah, we should probably get rid of the leftovers in the fridge, totally agree, yes I’d love a shot of tequila-- Actually, just pass me the bottle and a straw. </em></p><p>--<br/><br/>You’d never found a front door <em> intimidating </em> before.<br/><br/>Even after leaving Alex’s, you didn’t go right back to <strike>your</strike> Santiago’s apartment. You walked around for a little bit, then stopped by a bar to have a drink (just the one), and psyched yourself up. Frankie and Alex had to be right - Santiago wasn’t going to make this too weird for you. Maybe some light teasing, but you could put on a brave face and bear the brunt of that; you could start sleeping on the couch, and you <em> did </em> have those leads on a new apartment. You could be out of there by the end of the week.<br/><br/>God, why had you ever let yourself get comfortable there?</p><p>--<br/><br/>When you did manage to make it inside, you found the living room light on. That was… Fine, that meant he was <strike> home</strike> there.<br/><br/>You shut the door behind yourself and turned, redoing the locks behind yourself. When you turned back around, Santiago was leaning in the doorway of the kitchen, his arms folded over his chest. You were quiet for a moment, looking at him.<br/><br/>His face betrayed <em> nothing </em> . You couldn’t tell his mood, had no idea what he was thinking. You chewed the inside of your cheek to keep from blurting out something stupid. You’d thought of a few reasonable things to say while you were having a drink but-- fuck they were all gone now. You managed to start with,<br/><br/>“I can take my stuff and go if you’re uncomfortable.”<br/><br/>And maybe that was a bad place to start, because you saw Santiago clench one of his fists.  He lowered his eyes to the floor, and you added, <br/><br/>“Obviously I didn’t-- What happened wasn’t on purpose, I mean it was an accident--”<br/><br/>“ <em> Reina </em> .”<br/><br/>“And I mean it clearly wasn’t ideal, you know, there are ways to have that kind of conversation and that was,” You laugh shakily, “That <em> really </em> wasn’t one of them, wow, I mean, that’s gonna fucking haunt me--”<br/><br/>“ <em> Reina </em> ,” Santiago repeated, straightening up and unfolding his arms as he strode toward you. You were too scared of what he was going to say, though, so you kept talking:<br/><br/>“I mean don’t get me wrong, I’ve done some <em> truly </em> embarrassing shit in my life but that’s solidly gotta be top five, like holy shit-- I mean that’s even above the macaroni incident-- Remember, with Will, that time--”<br/><br/>“Did you mean it?”<br/><br/>“Yes I did-- But I mean that incident I got over, you know, I’m at the point where I can, like, eat pasta again--”<br/><br/>“Did you find somewhere else to stay?” Santiago asked, stopping in front of you, and <em> that </em> shut you up. Your stomach rolled with panic and nerves and-- fuck, he <em> did </em> want you to leave, didn’t he--<br/><br/>“I, um-- A few options, but nothing that’s immediate-- I can crash at Alex’s for a few days, he said his door’s open.”<br/><br/>Santiago stepped closer, crowding you back against the door. You shivered as he cupped your cheeks, his thumbs skimming over your cheekbones as he shook his head.<br/><br/>“Don’t,” He murmured, voice low and thick; you shook as he realized he was <em> begging-- </em> “Don’t leave, don’t ever leave.” </p><p>“<em> Santi </em> --”<br/><br/>His lips brushed yours, and then you both froze for a moment. You pushed out a shaky exhale, then said, “Santiago, I need you to-- To understand… I can’t do this casually. I can’t, not with you. And I don’t know what you’re thinking, I won’t pretend to know what the hell’s going on in your head right now, but if you only want this for one night, then you need to go find somebody else.” </p><p>“Look at me.”<br/><br/>Your eyes had been set on his chest, and they stayed there for another moment before they nervously flitted up to his. He shook his head a little bit.<br/><br/>“This is not for one night, <em> Reina </em> ,” He murmured, “This… Fuck, this is for as long as you’ll have me.”</p><p>There was not a single hint of teasing, of falsehood to his gestures, his look. You mumbled, “<em> Fuck </em> , Santiago--” Weakly before his lips pressed to yours.<br/><br/>Your hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt, as if you needed to draw him closer, as if the man wasn’t already winding his arms around you. You groaned, opening your mouth to him as you felt the tip of his tongue skim the seam of your lips.<br/><br/>And <em> fuck </em> , you’d imagined this a hundred times, but you’d never imagined <em> this </em> . You had always assumed that you and Santiago would, if anything, wind up in bed together after a bad mission, a long night, just needing comfort. You had assumed it would be all fumbling hands and smearing kisses-- hurried in the night and an awkward conversation the next morning.<br/><br/>But this-- This was deliberate and slow. It wasn’t <em> soft </em> . It couldn’t be, not with the way your fingers were tugging at Santiago’s hair and his hands were clutching your hips. But it lit a fire in you, one that urged you to take the man apart bit by bit. You didn’t want <em> soft </em> , not this time.<br/><br/>“Santiago,” You whined as the kiss broke and he lowered his head, lining your neck with kisses and nips, “I need--”<br/><br/>“Tell me,” He groaned.<br/><br/>“Need you, <em>please</em>,” You gasped as he bit down just a little harder, just under your ear.<br/><br/>“You have me,” He murmured, beginning to steer you back toward your bedroom, “You have me.” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This almost didn’t happen - it was the result of a stupidly sensitive microphone button.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope everyone’s having a good week! 💜</p><p>Warnings: Sexual innuendo; cursing; smooches; fluff</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You kept your eyes set on the ceiling, fingers smoothing through Santiago’s hair. He nuzzled into your neck softly, arm tightening around you, his hand smoothing over your bare waist. You closed your eyes as his lips brushed along the hollow of your throat. You pouted when you felt Santiago push himself up to hover over you. <br/><br/>“What is it?” You murmured. Santiago didn’t answer, just kissed you. You smiled, squeezing Santiago’s hips with your knees. He grunted, mumbling, “Gimme a few minutes, beautiful, I’m not as young as I used to be.”</p><p>You chuckled, sliding your hands down over Santiago’s neck.<br/><br/>“Ridiculous,” You muttered, “Now settle down before you fuck up your knees, old man.” Santiago grunted, rolling over when you pushed him into his back. <br/><br/>“Do <em>not</em> call me that,” He mumbled, but he curled his arm around you as you cuddled up to him. He slid his hand down between your shoulder blades, fingers skimming over your skin. <br/><br/>“...What’d ‘Fish say?” He asked. <br/><br/>“He had to put me on mute to laugh for three minutes.” <br/><br/>Santiago snorted, and you turned your head, groaning quietly. <br/><br/>“Shut up,” You mumbled. <br/><br/>“Look, the way I see it, he’s been listening to the both of us bitch about each other for at least a few months now. The guy’s entitled to <em>at least </em>three minutes of laughing.” <br/><br/>“I guess...Even if it was immediately after my heart shat its pants.” <br/><br/>Santiago laughed, head dropping back onto the pillow. <br/><br/>“I’m serious! I told Frankie I could make it out of the country before you made it back to the office.” <br/><br/>“Mm, you would’ve. I’ve seen how fast you drive. I assumed you were booking the ticket the second you muted your mic.” <br/><br/>“Oh, god, I was so close.” <br/><br/>“I’m glad you didn’t.” <br/><br/>You peered up at Santiago then. The teasing had dropped away from his voice, and he was watching you with this gentle contentment. <br/><br/>“...Why didn’t you ever say anything?” You asked softly. He shook his head. <br/><br/>“Would you have taken me seriously?” <br/><br/>You frowned. <br/><br/>“I would’ve, but it would’ve scared the shit out of me.” <br/><br/>“Uh huh. And would you have let anything happen between us?” <br/><br/>You already knew that the answer was no. <em>This</em> almost didn’t happen - it was the result of a stupidly sensitive microphone button. Santiago waited patiently, but you knew that he knew the answer, too. You gave a small head shake, and he nodded. <br/><br/>“That’s why,” He grumbled, looking up at the ceiling. <br/><br/>“I’m sorry,” You started, but he cut you off with a soft squeeze on the back of your neck. <br/><br/>“Don’t. Look, we’ve been down here a long time-- you’ve seen me mess around with informants--”<br/><br/>“Santi,” You pushed yourself up to straddle his hips, forcing him to look at you, “The only reason I’d say no is because I wouldn’t want it to ruin our working relationship. I mean-- We’re in each other’s faces all the time, we’ve been basically living together and we fight sometimes, but what we’ve had <em>works</em>.” <br/><br/>Santiago smoothed his hands over your thighs, and you held back a shiver at the feeling of his work-roughened palms. <br/><br/>“Are you worried that this will mess up our working relationship?”<br/><br/>You hesitated, fingers trailing over the chain of his necklace before answering, “Yes and no. I mean, we can’t… Unscramble an egg--” <br/><br/>“Or unstick my dick in your--” <br/><br/>“Yeah, but… But the feelings I’ve had for you have already clouded how we operate. So keeping it quiet didn’t really do what I thought it was going to do. I mean don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I don’t worry about Diego and ‘Brano, but it’s… It’s different.” <br/><br/>“You don’t cuddle with Zambrano after raids?” Santiago teased, grinning. You rolled your eyes. <br/><br/>“I mean I <em>haven’t</em> been, but we can start inviting him over if you really want.” <br/><br/>“No, that’s okay.”<br/><br/>You laughed as Santiago pushed himself to sit up. His arms wound around your waist, his head tipped up to press kisses to your neck and jaw. You relaxed, sliding your fingers through his salt-and-pepper curls. <br/><br/>“I’m sorry I didn’t answer you,” He mumbled. <br/><br/>“What?” <br/><br/>“The other night,” He leaned away, “After I saw my informant-- I didn’t-- She and I didn’t…” <br/><br/>You looked down at Santiago, watching him fumble with the sentence. <br/><br/>“...Oh,” You managed, brow furrowing. <br/><br/>“I just assumed you were with Alex.” <br/><br/>“I wasn’t.” <br/><br/>“I know. I got that when you bit my head off in the office.” <br/><br/>“Well I bit your head off because you didn’t answer me or go home to see the post-it.” <br/><br/>“I came home, I ignored the post-it.” <br/><br/>“Santiago!” You socked him lightly in the shoulder as he retorted, “I was upset!” Over you. <br/><br/>“Oh my <em>god</em>,” You groaned, hands dropping away from his shoulders and rubbing at your eyes, “You <em>ridiculous</em> man.” <br/><br/>“You weren’t there,” Santiago grumbled. <br/><br/>“No, because I was at the office looking for new apartments.” <br/><br/>Santiago’s arms tightened around you, keeping you close, like you were about to pull away and start packing. <br/><br/>“Alex knows I’m not into him, he’s known for a while,” You added reassuringly, running your hands over Santiago’s shoulders. <br/><br/>“Good,” The word was mumbled against your shoulder, and you rolled your eyes. You turned your head, nuzzling into Santiago’s hair for a moment as he laid kisses across your shoulder. <br/><br/>“Santi?” <br/><br/>“Mm.” <br/><br/>“You don’t think… I mean... You don’t think it would be a good idea for me to get my own place, still?” <br/><br/>Santiago froze for a moment before he leaned back to meet your eye. <br/><br/>“Why?” <br/><br/>“Well, for those days when we’ve pissed one another off. Or--...” <br/><br/>Or if this didn’t work. Santiago shook his head a little. <br/><br/>“If you want your own space, <em>Reina</em>, I won’t…” You could hear the hesitance in his voice, “I won’t stop you from having that, if that’ll make you happy. But I like having you here with me.” <br/><br/>You nodded a little, cupping his cheek and smoothing your fingers over his stubble. You pushed your trepidation down as you leaned in for a kiss. Santiago smoothed a hand up your back, sighing as you dipped your tongue into his mouth. You gave yourself over to the kiss, over to Santiago as he lowered you back down onto the sheets. </p><p>-- </p><p>“Please tell me there’s coffee,” You mumbled as you plastered yourself against Santiago’s back. <br/><br/>“Course there’s coffee,” He laughed, “C’mon, I didn’t just meet you yesterday.” <br/><br/>You smiled against his shoulder, mouthing against a mark you’d left there the night before. <br/><br/>Santiago turned, and you cuddled against his chest, hands settling on his waist and thumbing the waistband of his sweatpants.<br/><br/>“Sleep alright?” He murmured, cupping your jaw and tipping your head up. <br/><br/>“Mhm,” You hummed, smiling sleepily as he dropped a few pecks to your lips, “Did you?” <br/><br/>He nodded, resting his forehead against yours. <br/><br/>You frowned a little when you felt something buzz in his pants. <br/><br/>“I… I don’t remember that doing <em>that</em> yesterday,” You leaned back and looked down. Santiago snorted, swatting your ass as he reached into his pocket for his phone. A second later, your phone buzzed in the pocket of your pajama shorts. <br/><br/>“You keep your power tools with you?” Santiago teased, and you rolled your eyes, pinching his waist.<br/><br/>“It’s Frankie,” You reported, looking down at the <em>?</em> he’d sent you. <br/><br/>“You get a question mark, too?” <br/><br/>You nodded, opening the message, “I’m sending back a thumbs up.” <br/><br/>“Okay… I’ll send back a crying emoji.” <br/><br/>“What!” You shrieked, “No, don’t do that--” <br/><br/>“Too late--” <br/><br/>“You’re gonna confuse him-- Aw <em>geez</em>, he’s fucking calling me now. You’re such a <em>dick</em>, Garcia!"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>While the stakeouts had inadvertently brought you and Santiago closer, they hadn’t turned up any better leads on Hernandez.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope everyone’s having a good week! 💜</p><p>Warnings: Cursing; fluff</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You never came back, so I’m assuming you guys are fine?” Alex asked you quietly. You shot him a glance and a small smile. He returned in and nodded before he opened the file that you’d passed him. <br/><br/>“Good, because my couch is not comfortable,” He shook his head. You snorted a laugh, shaking your head. The two of you fell into an easy silence for a while, each working on your own tasks.<br/><br/>While the stakeouts had inadvertently brought you and Santiago closer, they hadn’t turned up any better leads on Hernandez. Pope had enlisted Diego’s help, gotten a few of his men sent down to El Eden for rounds of surveillance so that he and Alex wouldn’t have to pull any more of the heavy lifting where that was concerned. <br/><br/>There hadn’t been any hits on any of Hernandez’s credit cards. Nothing had popped for known associates or come up from Pope’s informant since the tracker had gone dead. <br/><br/>“Where is he?” Alex asked. <br/><br/>“Putting the screws to one of the dealers you’ve still got in custody,” You said, scanning the footage that had come back from Diego’s men. <br/><br/>“He gets to do all the fun stuff,” Alex muttered. You thought for a moment before you glanced at him.<br/><br/>“I’m not sure if I do or don’t want to be categorized under ‘<em>fun stuff</em>’.” </p><p>“Well--” <br/><br/>“Let’s stop that right where it is, thanks,” Pope grumbled as he swept into the room. <br/><br/>“See? And now he gets to do another fun thing, like stopping that conversation,” Alex pointed out. You shook your head before glancing up at Pope. <br/><br/>“You get anything?” You asked. <br/><br/>“Not yet,” Pope answered, pouring some coffee for himself. He turned, topping your mug off. <br/><br/>“Zambrano?” He offered, holding the pot up. <br/><br/>“I’m good. You want me to take a go at the guy?” Alex asked, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. <br/><br/>“Wouldn’t mind a little good-cop-bad-cop in there,” Pope nodded.<br/><br/>“Let’s go,” Alex got out of his chair and turned to leave the room. <br/><br/>“Aw, why do you guys get to have all the fun?” You pouted. <br/><br/>“You and I can have some fun later,” Pope leaned down, pecking your lips before he straightened up.<br/><br/>“He gets to do that, too!” Alex called in from the hall. </p><p>-- <br/><br/>The guys were able to shake free a loose tip, one that would require a reallocation of Diego’s resources and all of your time. Once you got something on the concrete end of that loose tip, you were able to start digging into it. You didn’t realize how much time has passed until Pope was beside your desk, waving his hand in front of your face to break your concentration. You blinked a few times, drawing yourself out of your focus. <br/><br/>“Hey,” You greeted, “Sup?” <br/><br/>“It’s three in the morning.” <br/><br/>“So?” <br/><br/>“So let’s go home.” <br/><br/>You were quiet for a few seconds, your hands going still over the keyboard, “I can’t, Santi, I’m in the middle of stuff here.” Santiago leaned over your desk, getting in your face. <br/><br/>“You’re gonna make me go to bed alone?” He raised a brow. <br/><br/>“You’ll live,” You retorted. Santiago groaned, and you raised your hand, taking hold of his chin between your thumb and forefinger. <br/><br/>“Babe, I know things are different between us now when we’re--” You waved between each other, “But this is what I meant when I said I was worried about things changing with us at work. I gotta finish this up, you know that.” <br/><br/>Santiago pressed his lips into a thin line before he nods, understanding. <br/><br/>“What?” You asked. <br/><br/>“Your commitment to your work is hot and I can’t do anything about it in the middle of this office...Unless you’re up for a quickie in the bathroom?” Pope waggled his brows. You chuckled.<br/><br/>“Maybe tomorrow,” You leaned up, pecking Pope’s cheek, “Go get some sleep and bring me some coffee when you come in.” <br/><br/>“Yes ma’am,” Pope murmured, smiling, “See you in a few hours.”</p>
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<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You’d spotted Hernandez - twice.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope everyone’s having a good week! 💜</p><p>Warnings: Cursing; fluff</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You look like hell, sweetheart.” <br/><br/>“Thanks, honey,” You retorted dryly, hardly looking away from your monitor as Pope came into the office. You smiled at the sight of a cup of coffee and a baggie of food in his hands. <br/><br/>“Any’a that for me?” <br/><br/>“All of it’s for you,” He came around to your side of the desk. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. <br/><br/>“I mean all of myself,” he added as he straightened up, “The food and the coffee are for me-- You hungry or something?” <br/><br/>You whined, turning your best pout up at him, and he laughed, setting the coffee and bag of food down, murmuring, “Course they’re for you.” <br/><br/>You reached up, catching hold of his collar and pulling him down for a proper kiss. He sighed, bracing his hands against his desk and the back of your chair. <br/><br/>“You get any sleep?” You asked as you let go of him. <br/><br/>“Some,” He admitted, “But I sleep better when you’re with me.” <br/><br/>“Sap.” <br/><br/>“What’ve you got?” He asked, pulling a chair up beside yours. You reached out, turning your monitor toward him. <br/><br/>“I’ve got four face matches for Hernandez in the last two weeks - two are in the same place, around 7AM - coming outta this cathedral. He comes in and leaves through the right side door. I think there’s a chance that we can nab him on his way out.” <br/><br/>“You wanna nail a guy coming out of church?” Santiago repeated, brows rising, “....Damn, sweetheart, that’s-- That is cold and slightly genius.” <br/><br/>“You’re a sweet-talker this early,” You teased as you reached for your coffee, “Look, it’s not a full plan, and I haven’t been able to get enough on how he’s getting there or where he goes when he leaves.” <br/><br/>“It’s a start.” <br/><br/>“It’s only a start if he stays.” <br/><br/>Santiago was quiet for a moment before he nodded once. <br/><br/>“So we start surveying that sight for known associates.” <br/><br/>“I’ve already got a few of Diego’s guys in the area and on the lookout for Hernandez and known associates.” <br/><br/>“And you haven’t even had your coffee yet. I’m impressed,” Santiago teased. <br/><br/>“I’ve actually had a pot and a half.” <br/><br/>“Okay, I’m gonna need you to give me that cup back.”  <br/><br/>“Touch it and see what happens, Garcia.” </p><p>-- </p><p>“You nervous?” He asked. <br/><br/>“No. Should I be?” <br/><br/>Santiago shook his head, bracing his hands against the windowsill. The two of you had been holed up in the drafty studio apartment across the street from the cathedral for the past three weeks. You’d spotted Hernandez - <em> twice </em> . He attended mass on Wednesdays, their earliest service at 6 in the morning. <br/><br/>It would be a small operation: Alex would attend the service, confirm that Hernandez was there. When mass let out, Alex would stop Hernandez outside - ask him the time. Then Pope and Diego’s team would move in. <br/><br/>“...You’re fussing,” You said knowingly, sitting up on the air mattress that you’d been sleeping on. <br/><br/>“I am not.” <br/><br/>“ <em> Santi </em> .” <br/><br/>“We have to get him.” <br/><br/>You were glad he was turned away from you, so he didn’t see the ungraceful way that you clambered off of the air mattress - a tuck-and-roll that only made it through half of the tuck and wound up with you nearly face-planting on the floor with your left foot still tangled in your blankets. You pushed yourself off of the floor, shaking your foot out of the fabric before walking over to him. <br/><br/>“We’re going to get him,” You soothed softly, wrapping your arms around Santiago’s waist and cuddling up against his back. He sighed softly, his head dropping forward a little bit before he leaned more heavily against you. You were ready for him, though, and leaned up into it. You tipped your head forward, pressing gentle kisses to his bare shoulder as his hands settled atop your arms. <br/><br/>“How are you so calm?” He grumbled. You smiled against his skin. <br/><br/>“One of us has to be. C’mon, come to bed. You need sleep.” <br/><br/>Santiago sighed heavily, eyeing the cathedral one more time before he nodded, patting your arm. You took a step back, loosening your hold on him as he turned to face you. He cupped your cheeks, leaning in and kissing you gently. He let you lead the way back to the air mattress, settled down before you did, arms open for you to curl up against him. </p><p>-- </p><p>“What are you hearing?” Pope asked. You could see him from my position in the apartment-- he and two of Diego’s men were stationed down the block from the church. <br/><br/>“... <em> Nuestro himno de cierre--” </em> You repeated, listening to the feed coming in from the bug that had been planted in the church. <br/><br/>“Closing hymn,” Pope hissed, raising a hand to signal to Diego and his team. <br/><br/>“Be careful,” You warned, “We don’t know if he’s armed, we don’t know if he’s got anyone waiting--”<br/><br/>“I know, I know,” Was the snipped reply from both ‘Brano and Pope, and you rolled your eyes. You could give them shit for offering a friendly warning later. <br/><br/>“‘Brano, you got eyes on him?” <br/><br/>“He’s leaving his pew now,” Alex’s voice was quiet as it crackled through the comms. <br/><br/>“Hold for my signal,” was Pope’s reply. You watched with bated breath as you say Alex exit through the front door, then round to the side, taking slow, careful steps as Diego and Pope’s teams moved into position. It was a moment before the side door opened, a moment before Hernandez came into view and you heard Pope murmur, “Move,” Through the comms. <br/><br/>The video footage became difficult to discern -- with so many people and with a lagged feed, it was hard to make out what was happening. You heard Zambrano (<em>"Perdón, ¿tiene hora?"</em>) first. You stood from your place at the desk and watched through the window as Pope and Diego’s crew surrounded Hernandez. The man was clearly prepared to go down fighting-- he had a gun out, pointed directly at Pope. Your breath caught; your throat tightened as you listened to Pope try to talk the man down: he was <em> surrounded </em> , there was no way he was making it out of this cleanly, even if he did manage to take down a couple of them. <br/><br/>Hernandez seemed to be stalling, or trying to as he took a look around. After a few tense moments, as scant church-goers looked on, Hernandez lowered his gun to the ground, putting his hands behind his head. Zambrano came up behind him, kicking his gun out of reach and cuffing Hernandez’s hands behind his head. <br/><br/>“We’ve got him,” Pope’s voice crackled through the feed, tense, “Heading back to the station.” <br/><br/>“Be careful,” You said, “Air support’s covering you, I’ll alert you if they catch sight’a anything unusual.” <br/><br/>“Copy, <em> Reina </em> .” <br/><br/>“...Take a breath, Santiago.” <br/><br/>“Yes, ma’am,” Was mumbled after a moment, “Pack up the stuff, I’ll meet you down there.” <br/><br/>You watched as they loaded Hernandez into a truck with Zambrano, Pope, and Diego before you leaned heavily against the sill, the tension draining from your body. <br/><br/>It was over-- for now, at least.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter 19</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Whoa, what’s going on here?” You asked as you walked into the little back-office you shared with Pope and Zambrano.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope everyone’s having a good week!  💖</p><p>Y’all! There’s only one more chapter after this!!</p><p>Warnings: Cursing... Yeah, I think that’s as bad as this one gets</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You knew that stormy look on Pope’s face. He waited patiently for you to lock the door behind him before he curled around you, face pressing into your shoulder as he slid his hand up your back.</p><p>Pope and Zambrano had been interrogating Hernandez for ten hours. You’d been at the station for as long as you could stand it. You’d filed your report, returned the equipment, neatened up your little back office, run out to get the guys food (twice) before finally returning home. </p><p>“You alright?” You murmured, rocking the two of you back and forth gently.</p><p>“We fuckin’ got him,” He mumbled. You smiled, turning your head and pressing a kiss to his head.</p><p>“I know,” You fisted your hands in the fabric of his shirt, “You wanna sit down?”</p><p>“Just-- Need a minute.”</p><p>You nodded, giving Santiago the time that he needed. He eventually unwound himself from you, steering you toward the couch.</p><p>“Sit,” You urged, “You want a beer or anything?”</p><p>“Sure,” Santiago mumbled, dropping onto the couch. You grabbed a beer for each of you before you joined him, settling down beside him.</p><p>“He say anything?” You asked.</p><p>“Not much. Guy’s tight-lipped as shit-- Wouldn’t be so close to the top if he wasn’t.”</p><p>“It’s a start,” You reminded him, “We’ve got footage of him shooting ‘Brano, so we’re able to hold him. Any sign of a lawyer?”</p><p>“Not yet, but Diego and Alex said they’d keep me updated overnight.”</p><p>“Well, don’t know how they’ll do that, because you’ll be asleep.”</p><p>“No, I can’t--”</p><p>“<em>Santi</em>,” You murmured, reaching up and cupping his chin, “You need to rest. And you know as well as I do that if your phone rings, you’ll wake up to answer it.”</p><p>Santiago pushed a tired huff out of his nose before he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, drawing you against him.</p><p>“You alright?” He asked.</p><p>“Me? Oh, fine,” You murmured, sliding an arm across his middle and running your hand over his side, “...Kinda scared the shit outta me earlier when… You know. Hernandez, and the gun.”</p><p>“I know,” Pope mumbled, “Didn’t love that myself.”</p><p>“Yeah, you didn’t seem to be enjoying yourself.”</p><p>“You’re so fuckin’ perceptive, you know that? It’s hot.”</p><p>You rolled your eyes, tipping your head back and peering up at him.</p><p>“Remember that time you sent Frankie a crying emoji and I called you a dick?”</p><p>“Uh-huh.”</p><p>“Still stands.”</p><p>--</p><p>“Whoa, what’s going on here?” You asked as you walked into the little back-office you shared with Pope and Zambrano. Alex looked up from his desk, smiling when he saw you. <br/><br/>“Clearin’ out. I’ve got an assignment up in Juarez.” <br/><br/>You folded your arms, watching him turn back to his desk and pack a few things into his backpack. <br/><br/>“Were you planning on saying anything?” <br/><br/>“Course I was. Just-- Didn’t wanna make a big fuss out of it.” <br/><br/>“Pope know you’re goin’?” <br/><br/>“Yeah, told him last night. We got Hernandez, that’s what I was brought on for. You guys don’t need me to stick.” <br/><br/>“Could use your help getting Lorea.” <br/><br/>Alex chuckled, shaking his head. <br/><br/>“S’exactly what your boyfriend said.” <br/><br/>He straightened up, tucking his hands into his pockets. <br/><br/>“...Not gonna cry are you?” <br/><br/>“Well I was working up a tear or two, but you’re acting like a shithead, so I’ll save ‘em for another time,” You answered dryly. Alex grinned, picking up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. <br/><br/>“No time for a drink?” <br/><br/>“Flight leaves in two hours, I’m behind already.” <br/><br/>“Damn, ‘Brano.” <br/><br/>“I know,” He rounded your desks, walking closer to you. He opened his arms, and you stepped into them, giving him a warm hug. He patted your shoulder a couple of times. <br/><br/>“Take care of yourself, huh?” He murmured. <br/><br/>“You, too.” <br/><br/>As the two of you parted, you heard the floor creak, and turned to see Pope in the doorway. <br/><br/>“Nothing’s happening here,” Alex held his hands up, “Just saying goodbye.” <br/><br/>“Oh, I know. I’m not worried,” Santiago smiled, stepping inside and holding his hand out. Alex laughed, shaking his hand. <br/><br/>“Good working with you, Garcia.” <br/><br/>“You, too, <em>hermano</em>,” Pope said lightly. Alex turned, giving one last nod to the both of you before leaving the office. You sighed softly, shaking your head and watching him go. You glanced up at Santiago and did a double-take when you saw him staring at you. <br/><br/>“What?” You asked. <br/><br/>“Not gonna cry, are you?” He asked. You rolled your eyes, stepping around to your desk. <br/><br/>“Assholes,” You muttered, lowering yourself into your seat, “I work with assholes.”</p>
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<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter 20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Relax for a second.”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope everyone’s having a good week!  💖</p><p>Y‘all it’s the final chapter!! Thank you to everyone that has read and commented. I really appreciate all of your support, and I want to thank you for sticking with me through this story. 🥰</p><p>Warnings: Cursing… Yeah, I think that’s as bad as this one gets</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“How many are left?” You asked, watching Santiago lower a box onto the small stack by the door. </p><p>“None. That’s the last one,” Santiago sighed, resting his hands on his hips. The two of you looked around your new, small office. It was a little nicer than your old one - Pope had already taken care of the security system, before the two of you had moved anything in at all. He nudged the door shut with his foot before he locked it. </p><p>“Coffee's fresh if you want any,” You offered, turning back to the box you were unpacking. </p><p>“In a minute.”</p><p>You felt Santiago’s hands slide his hands over your hips and you glanced back, grinning.</p><p>“Whaddaya think you’re doing, huh?” </p><p>“Nothin’,” He murmured innocently, nose nudging just under your ear. </p><p>“Mm, my point exactly, Garcia. Shake a leg, we got shit to unpack.” </p><p>Santiago groaned, cuddling up closer to you and pressing a kiss to your neck.</p><p>“Can’t it wait a few minutes? The boxes aren’t going anywhere. <em>C’mon</em>,” He cooed, wrapping his arms around your middle and drawing you back against him, “Relax for a second.” </p><p>You chuckled, unable to help it, and leaned back against him, resting your hands on his arms. Santiago hummed, contented, and dropped another kiss to your neck before nuzzling against the spot. </p><p>“Good?” You murmured. </p><p>“Very, very good,” he mumbled. You raised a brow as he began to sway the two of you back and forth. </p><p>“You’re in a good mood.”</p><p>“No reason to not be,” Santiago lifted his head to rest his chin on your shoulder, “We’re moved into our new office… You’re <em>completely</em> moved into <em>our</em> place, fuckin’ finally…” </p><p>You rolled your eyes a little before tacking on, “And you’ve got a new informant.” </p><p>“<em>We</em> have a new informant.”<br/><br/>It was true - you’d met the woman that Pope had made contact with - someone that was able to confirm details that Hernandez had given Pope, and that said she had access to Lorea’s operations. <br/><br/>“...Stop it,” Pope mumbled. <br/><br/>“Hm?” <br/><br/>“Thinking, <em>Reina</em>,” Pope turned you around to face him. He looked over your face for a few moments before he began to sway the two of you back and forth gently again. <br/><br/>“...Santiago.” <br/><br/>“Mm?” <br/><br/>“What are you doing?” <br/><br/>“I think taking a little spin around the office will lighten your mood.” <br/><br/>“Oh my <em>god</em>--” You rolled your eyes and Pope laughed, reaching down and taking hold of your hand, intertwining your fingers and swaying the two of you back and forth, the movement more pronounced now. <br/><br/>“You danced with ‘Brano, you won’t dance with me?” <br/><br/>“Zambrano won a coin toss. I don’t back down from a coin toss,” You pointed out. Nevertheless, you curled your free hand around Santiago’s shoulder. His smile softened and his hand drifted across your waist, settling on your lower back. <br/><br/>“...So what’s next?” You asked softly, “You know, once we’re done dancing.” <br/><br/>Santiago hummed thoughtfully, “Well...Unpacking.”<br/><br/>“Mhm.” <br/><br/>“We’ve got follow-ups to chase down.” <br/><br/>“Correct.” <br/><br/>“But will you let me savor this for now?” Santiago turned his head, nuzzling against your temple. You smiled, tipping your head up and pecking his lips. <br/><br/>“For now,” You murmured, “But don’t think you can just use a dance break to distract me anytime now.” <br/><br/>“Oh, I would never think that,” Santiago laughed, cupping the back of your neck and drawing you up for another kiss. You sighed, leaning back and pecking his lips one more time before squeezing his shoulder. <br/><br/>“Okay,” You said, stepping out of his arms, “Boxes, mister, let’s go.” <br/><br/>“Bossy, <em>Reina</em>,” Santiago grumbled, peering over your shoulder as you pulled a few files out of the box you were going through. <br/><br/>“Come on,” You laughed, “The sooner we get a jump on this, the sooner we can go home.”</p>
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